


The Potioneer's Assistant Rebrewed

by Kgfinkel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy Bashing, F/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mentor Severus Snape, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29483259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kgfinkel/pseuds/Kgfinkel
Summary: An updated and improved brew of the original 2017 publishing of The Potioneer's Assistant. While the story is a bit different, the friendships are the same as are the conflicts in the Destiny of one Harry James Potter. AD/RW/DM bash, Somewhat decent Severus Snape, Good Dursleys. Mundane computer science and ancient magic is mixed together to create a cauldron full of adventure and friendship!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 40
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I first wrote the original TPA back in 2017 and now I feel it’s time for an update. The original was chock full of tropes, head-canons, and useless subplots that overly crowded the flow of the story plus since then, my writing and storytelling style has improved. You know it’s time to update your stories when re-reading them has become cringe-worthy and painful. The Dursleys in the original were the classic semi-abusive type but in this update they’ll be a heck of a lot nicer. I will also keep the tension and conflict in longer too since I’ve been told that I tend to remove the aggressors too quickly from my later stories. Finally, in the original story I glossed over a lot of the nuts and bolts of how the PA operated in order to speed things along. This time through however, Harry will be explaining the details more. I’ll leave it up to you the readers, if you think I’m getting too technical.

**August 1991**

**The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London**

"Well, here it is, Harry. The Leaky Cauldron; it's a famous place," the large man named Hagrid, accompanying Harry informed him. To the newly turned eleven year old boy, the place didn't look like much. It was dimly lit, the windows were rather grimy and the patrons were oddly dressed. _'I'm glad that Miss Honeybloom and Mr. Cody took me here before or I think I'd be panicking a bit!'_

Harry grimaced at the thought of being informed that their child was a witch or wizard without any warning. _'Wizards don't have an ounce of logic. You'd think that there would be a department within their ministry that would send someone out to the parents of the mundane born magical children and give them a proper introduction to the world their kids will eventually join.'_ Hagrid had shown up out of the blue at his aunt's and uncle's home the day before his eleventh birthday, banged on the door (nearly ripping it out of the frame) and announced that he was here to take 'young Harry to get his school supplies.' When Uncle Vernon had declared that Harry wouldn't be going anywhere with anyone without a proper introduction, Hagrid scrunched his face up in confusion and claimed that Albus Dumbledore had said he sent them a letter about the return of Harry to his 'rightful place.' This did not sit well with Vernon and Petunia Dursley, thank you very much. They hadn't received any sort of correspondence regarding a shopping trip and that Hagrid would have to return to wherever it was he came from! To tell the truth, Harry didn't like being ordered around either, especially under the knowledge that it was Albus Dumbledore giving the orders.

You see, Harry was raised by his aunt and uncle as well as his mundane (he hated the term 'muggle') 3rd and 5th level primary school teachers (a mundane-born witch and a Squib, or non-magical child, from a magical family, respectively) to question the motives and grandiose speeches made by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. It was Dumbledore that dropped Harry off at his aunt's house early one November back in 1981 in a basket with only a note attached to his blanket. The 'old fool' as his aunt would refer to him as, never even knocked on the door to let them know that Harry was sleeping on their porch. It was only after Petunia found him the next morning, slightly blue and freezing cold, was his existence discovered. The note was, according to his aunt, condescending and oddly worded. In it, she learned that her baby sister and brother-in-law had been murdered and their 15-month old son was to be placed into their care. Dumbledore instructed the Dursleys to raise Harry as one of their own and that there would be no contact from the magical world until it was time for Harry to be returned. Whenever Harry thought on that memory, he could only shake his head in derision. _'This is who Magical Britain has declared to be the Leader of the Light and the greatest wizard since Merlin? We're also lucky that Uncle Vernon's job paid so well otherwise who knows what could've happened if they couldn't afford to care for me.'_

Hagrid did return; all apologetic and demurely informed the Dursley adults that Albus said that the letter that he'd sent was attached to Harry's baby blanket and that he, Hagrid, was sorry for being so loud and demanding. Vernon accepted the apology and suggested that Hagrid take Harry shopping for his supplies on the weekend as they had previously arranged plans. So it was the first week in August that the big man returned and took Harry on a whirlwind shopping spree within the magical commercial district known as 'Diagon Alley.'

* * *

_**Flashback to 1987:** _

When Harry had reached his 3rd year in primary school, Harry was already an accomplished gardener according to his family; Aunt Petunia loved to brag to anyone who would stand still to listen that her nephew was the family greenthumb. Petunia did all the heavy lifting like bringing in the bags of fertilizer or the bigger tools but it was Harry that had the knack to get the plants to grow super-well. Petunia claimed it was the Evans' genes coming through and that it was usually found amongst the female side of the family. That set off Dudley; he'd tease Harry about being a pretty, prancing fairy dancing amongst the flowers. Harry's response would be to turn the hose on his cousin and start a water fight with the backyard turning into a muddy mess and two unrepentantly grinning boys standing defiantly together against a 'disapproving and aggrieved yet not-so-secretly pleased' aunt/mother.

The Dursley backyard garden was full of huge blooms of flowers and other plant-life. They had a pond with a couple of fish to keep the mosquito population in check, a place for frogs and plenty of hanging birdfeeders. His true passion was in creating a journal in which he dutifully wrote and drew all of the plants and animals that he'd find in the garden. While he didn't realize it at the time, Harry Potter was an actual wizard. It was only after his first lesson with Miss Honeybloom on the history of magic that his aunt had shown him his mother's books and journals about some of the classes she took while at a school weirdly called, 'Hogwarts' when he brought home his worksheet to show off. One set of books that fascinated him more than the others was the topic of potion-making. It was right after that a parent-teacher conference was arranged when Vernon and Petunia discovered that Harry's teacher was a mundane-born witch who had become disenfranchised with the magical world for various reasons and returned to get her teaching credentials. The three adults quickly hit it off and became fast friends, especially when Petunia found out that Belinda was in the same year and House of her sister!

Under the guise of educating her class in what she called, 'Medieval Britain Culture Month,' Miss Honeybloom taught the kids about the British history of magic, Herbology was explained as medieval botany with Potions described as medieval chemistry class. Some of the parents were rather hesitant about this possible blasphemy (especially the history of how the early settlers believed in a range of deities) being taught to their children but after sitting in on a couple of classes, they relented and thought it was a fun way to get the kids to pay attention. Miss Honeybloom would dress up and lead a lecture on the various characters from British history using their contributions and how it benefited the population of their nation. Another fun class was the teaching of how to read and write in runes. The kids (and some of the attending parents) received worksheets with the instructions for a runic scavenger hunt. The first person who got all the questions right would win a shiny crown.

* * *

In his 'Potions' class Harry learned how to identify and prepare the various ingredients of the day then how to brew them in a pot to create the desired effects. The potion they were learning how to make that week was a glow-in-the-dark concoction that when smeared on a flat surface and exposed to direct sunlight for a couple of hours would shine a bright yellow in a darkened room. Belinda noticed Harry's tilt of his head as he first read through the recipe and walked over.

"Is there a problem, Harry?" she gently inquired.

Harry slowly shook his head, "No, I don't think so. It's just that one of these ingredients just doesn't seem to be…right." He reached behind him and dug out his journal from his backpack and flipped it open to a specific page. He dragged his finger down until he located the bit of information he was looking at and slowly nodded, "I thought so. Your recipe calls for eight sunflower petals; my notes say that ten would be better and to specify which type of sunflower."

Belinda gently took the journal from him and examined the notes for herself, "Yes, you are correct Harry. Ten would be better… Does it explain why you should use a particular type of sunflower? Ah, yes it does. A yellow sunflower will produce a bright sunny effect while a red/orange sunflower will make the light appear as if during a warm afternoon. Why don't you try both recipes and write up what you noticed about the differences?"

The other kids were curious as to why Harry had two pots set up for their experiment but were quietly reminded by their teacher to focus on their own work and not worry about what someone else was doing. When Harry handed in his dual experiment, he idly commented that it was a shame that there wasn't a way to run the experiment without having to touch the ingredients.

Belinda nodded, "Well, there is a way using what is known as a computer. A computer is an electronic device used for storing and processing data, typically in binary form," at his confused look she explained that binary was a way of describing things using 1s and 0s. He still didn't get it but she promised that a colleague of hers was more fluent in describing technology than her and that she'd talk to him about holding a demonstration at some point in the year.

* * *

_**Present time:** _

Harry was led through the crowds in Diagon Alley towards a large white marbled building with name 'Gringotts' on the lintel. Inside there were strange looking beings that Hagrid described as Goblins and that they were fiendishly clever though not the friendliest of sorts. After witnessing a scene where an adult wizard imperiously demanded to be taken to his vault, Harry was beginning to understand why the Goblins were so surly.

It was their turn and Hagrid rumbled that, "Mr. Harry Potter would like to make a withdrawal." The teller held out a long-fingered hand for 'Mr. Harry Potter's key' and had to wait in annoyance as Hagrid rummaged around in his overcoat for it. Harry's face grew puzzled as he wondered how it was that Hagrid had this key and his aunt or uncle didn't. He didn't say anything at the time but after a harrowing cart ride down to and back from his vault, he decided that maybe he should look into it. He was lucky that Hagrid wasn't feeling too well and asked him if Harry'd mind to wait for him to nip into the Leaky for a 'pick-me-up.'

"I understand, Hagrid. Go and have that drink. I'll just wait here in the lobby," Harry soothed and patted the big man on the arm. Once Hagrid was out of sight, Harry returned to the teller's line. The teller spotted him, waved him over and growled, "What is it _this_ time?"

"With all due respect sir, I don't know how Hagrid ended up with my vault key and after his conversation with my aunt and uncle about how I was to be educated by the 'Great Albus Dumbledore,' I suspect foul-play. Is there a way to get a new key made and lock out the old one?"

The teller was surprised on a number of things; first was the respect given by this wizarding child and second was the suspiciousness towards the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He gestured towards a rune-inscribed bowl, "You would need to shed three drops of your blood into the bowl to get a new key made. It will cost you two Galleons from your vault. May I ask why you have such reticence regarding Albus Dumbledore?"

Harry thought for a moment, "I was raised to not trust anything he says or does. His motives and words do not match up to his accomplishments." He hesitated a moment more, "I know that my aunt and uncle would probably like to speak with whomever it is that's in charge of my family's money. They've told me that the Potters are an old family and they would most likely have an Account Manager. Would it be possible to get his card or whatever it is that your people use to give to them?"

The teller smirked back at him, "You really are a remarkable young wizard, Mr. Potter. There are not many within the wizarding community who would be so knowledgeable or proactive in securing their knowledge of our ways and services. You are respectful and humble; those are good qualities I feared your kind had forgotten." He handed over a card with the Potter Family Account Manager's name, Daggerclaw, and contact information (both magical and mundane.) Harry thanked the teller and went in search of Hagrid.

* * *

**Last week of August, 1991, Dursley Residence**

Dudley was lying out on the front lawn belly down, a cluster of rocks and branches in front of him. In his hands was something that resembled a rifle and it caused the neighbors to grow concerned enough to call the police. When they arrived they witnessed a somewhat skinny kid with raven-black hair running across the lawn and a heavier child giving chase and yelling, "You better run, runt! I'll get you and give you what you deserve!" The two boys disappeared around the corner towards the backyard.

The PC lead gave his partner a worried look as they hurried up to the front door. After knocking and waiting a moment, they were greeted by the bizarre sight of Petunia Dursley wearing an apron, work goggles on her face and a bandolier fashioned from an old belt with little water balloons containing some kind of colored liquid hanging from it.

"Mrs. Petunia Dursley?"

"Ah! Officers, what can I do for you? Wait. Let me put the battle on hold for a moment." She hurried back inside and picked up a can with a horn attached to the nozzle from the table. A blast of noise prompted both boys to appear with curious looks on their faces.

PC Barnes introduced himself and his partner, "We're here in response to a neighbor's concerned call that a child was carrying around what appeared to be a rifle and when we arrived we witnessed the larger one chasing the smaller child yelling something about getting what he deserved. Would you care to explain what is going on?"

Both boys started cracking up as they divested themselves of their gear and wiped their feet on the mat. Petunia sighed in exasperation as she too, removed her goggles, "Those neighbors! Too nosy for their own good, I tell you." She turned and told Dudley to go get his dad from his garage workshop. "What you were seeing was our annual 'End of Summer Water War.' One last blast of fun and childish abandon before the 'drudgery of school' starts up again."

Vernon came in, surprised to see a pair of constables in his foyer. Petunia brought him up to speed which caused him to grumble about nosy neighbors as well. He took in the sopping wet mess that were the two boys, "Who won?" Both Dudley and Harry raised their hands while Petunia snorted in laughter.

* * *

**Sunday 1 September 1991, King's Cross Station, London**

The Dursleys and Harry arrived at the station about an hour or so before the train to Hogwarts was scheduled to leave. Petunia wept quietly about how her little nephew was going away while Dudley and Harry rolled their eyes. Vernon kept clearing his throat while trying (and failing) to look composed, "You do your best to learn everything you can while staying out of trouble, you hear me? I don't want to be getting letters from your teachers that you've been getting detentions or whatnot. I especially don't want to get anything more from that headmaster of yours."

"I promise, Uncle Vernon. I'll do my best and make you proud of me," Harry replied with finality.

Harry managed to find and get onto the magical platform with about forty-five minutes to spare. He found a compartment and got his trunk loaded then settled himself in for the long ride up to Scotland, slightly wishing that he hadn't let his owl fly on her own. Hagrid had gotten him a beautiful female Snowy Owl as a birthday present and also as an apology for the way he behaved during their first meeting. Harry eventually named the owl 'Hedwig' and that morning before leaving for the station, he suggested that she take the time to fly up to the school on her own so she could learn the best routes and hunt as she saw fit.

As settled into the bench, he pulled out his latest creation. The new and revolutionary device known as 'The Potioneer's Assistant.' It was the culmination of many years of hard work and studious learning of subjects like computer science, programming, circuit design and magic. At first glance, it resembled a leather-bound book (if the book only had a half inch of pages) but when the cover was lifted, it looked like it would've belonged on the set of Star Trek. The face was a shiny, mirror-like screen and had a series of ports along one side. A button that turned the device on/off was located on the left while a removable touch pen was secured in a slot on the bottom right.

Harry pressed the power button and the Assistant began its power-up routine.

* * *

_**Flashback to 1988:** _

Mr. Robert Cody was as unlike a teacher as one could imagine yet he projected an air that left no one in doubt that he knew what he was talking about. He would wear the most outlandish shirts that looked like they'd barely survived an explosion in a paint factory and always with a lurid purple tie. Miss Honeybloom had explained to Robert who Harry was and his family, Robert immediately warmed up to the boy.

"I've always dreamed of meeting the Potters. They were always on the forefront of experimental magics and weren't afraid of muggle technology."

Harry scrunched his face up, "I don't like that term.' Muggle…' it sounds almost like an insult. I prefer 'mundane.'" Robert accepted that.

"So Miss Honeybloom tells me that you had an interest in computers?"

Harry pulled out his journal and explained that he had become curious if there was a way to run potion experiments without having to waste time and money on ingredients if the recipe didn't work properly, "Miss Honeybloom mentioned that there was a device known as a computer that could do this but she said that you'd be able to explain it better than she could."

Robert flipped through the journal, impressed with amount of detailed notes and high quality of the drawings, "Well, making a computer is rather difficult, Harry but it can be done. I daresay that it might actually be easier to make one because you and Miss Honeybloom can do magic."

Harry's head tilted in puzzlement, "Why can't you do magic?"

Robert smiled sadly, "I was born incapable of doing magic. I was fortunate though that my parents were progressive to send me to a boarding school to get an education."

Harry paled at the implied flip-side of that explanation and shook his head to clear it of bad thoughts.

* * *

For the better part of the year, mostly on weekends; Harry would get his aunt or occasionally his uncle to drive him to school so he could take part in learning everything there was about the burgeoning world of computer science. When Vernon found out about this, he would join in as well since the mainframes at the company he worked for were cumbersome and the upper management was looking to invest in the newer, faster desktop computers.

It was hard work, that much Harry agreed with himself on but it _was_ his idea to create something to help him learn potions when he eventually went to Hogwarts and also he wanted to be able to prove to himself that magic and technology could exist side-by-side. Miss Honeybloom would occasionally tell stories about how the small transistor radios the mundane-born would bring to school would eventually fizzle out because they were told that magic and technology didn't mix. So with childish determination, Harry dove into his lessons on the history of computers, database programming, advanced mathematics far and above what any other child his age would have cause to learn, circuit theory and design.

Granted, Mr. Cody watered down the subjects as best he could since Harry _was_ only 8 years old and hadn't had the years of previous schooling under his belt but Harry plowed on bullishly. Once the general theory and applications of computers were covered, Robert and Belinda walked him through the magical subjects like arithmancy, runes, charms and transfiguration. At one point, Vernon had suggested that they combine all the notes and lesson plans that had been developed for someone Harry's age to learn and combine it all into a reference book.

As a reward for completing all of his schoolwork and also for getting involved with the computer science lessons without complaint; Belinda took Harry to Diagon Alley for an afternoon. She put a baseball cap on his head to hide his famous scar and his instantly recognizable messy raven-hair head and transfigured his glasses to look a bit different that his usual aviator-style pair. There he got to see where all the different shops that she and Robert had mentioned during some of their breaks between classes. Harry even got a chance to see what sort of nonsense there was surrounding the hype over the mystical 'Boy-Who-Lived' hullabaloo. There were many books written that speculated on what happened that Halloween night but none of them had any specific answers. Some even went so far as to say that 'Harry Potter said this' or 'Harry Potter suspected this to be true.' It angered him but Harry knew there wasn't anything he could do without causing a scene.

* * *

It wasn't until nearly Christmas of 1988 that the first generation of the Assistant was powered up for the first time. It was large (about the size of the mundane American computer company Apple's 'Apple II.' It was heavy and bulky and was only going to be used as a test-bed anyways so the fact that it wasn't in the least portable made no difference to the erstwhile researchers. It had a dual power source (ambient magic and a regular power cord); the processing core had 48kb of RAM, a MOS6502 chip and a 4 inch monitor plus built-in keyboard. It featured two ports to plug in commercially available floppy disk drives or a lead to plug in a larger television screen. 'Wordstar' was used for word processing and an early version of dBASE 2 for database management. Despite the limitations brought on by the fact that it was a first generation device, Harry had a lot of fun trying new things. Even when he got the computer to fail (sometimes spectacularly), he would just write down what he had done and the results of the experiment into his ever-present journal.

It soon wasn't uncommon for Petunia to find Harry curled up on the couch with stacks of printouts and drawings surrounding him as he busily scribbled away on one calculation or another. Even Dudley, never the most observant child, had complained that he didn't get to play with his cousin as often as he would've liked. The other neighborhood kids either lived too far for him to walk to or in the case of one boy named Piers Polkiss, too determined to become a hoodlum even this young in life.

Vernon offered his garage workshop to hold their magical computer experiments away from potential prying eyes and magical police interference. When asked why, Vernon shrugged and said that despite all the accidental magic that Harry had displayed over the years, no one had stopped in to see what was going on. That led to Miss Honeybloom casting about to see if there were any wards set up to disguise the property. She discovered a set of wardstones placed around the boundary of the property as well as a central wardstone located underneath Petunia's prized rosebushes with a magical signature that pointed to Albus Dumbledore (Petunia and Vernon weren't surprised that the old fool set something up and not tell anyone.)

During one break in activities, Robert complimented Harry on his stick-to-it attitude towards learning all these new subjects when most kids his age would rather be outside playing at the park (Harry would always shrug and blush at the praise.)

* * *

Fast forward to the start of summer 1991 and second generation of The Potioneer's Assistant was as different from other computers on the market as the Wright Brothers' primitive airplane was to modern jet fighters. It was thin, lightweight and sleek and looked 'oh-so-cool' as Dudley would quip. It had the latest magically modified Intel 486 PC 8MB processor core on a specially printed motherboard, runic heat sinks that kept everything from melting, an improved dual ambient magic/mundane 12VDC power rune array plus a separate transformer power cord neatly wrapped up in the carrying case, GUI controls with dedicated touch pen, it was able to import pictures from a built-in magical camera located on the cover. It utilized the latest edition of MSOffice (Word, Excel, Powerpoint and calculator); it had ports for an external hard drive and a printer. There was going to be one more feature but it wasn't going to be done in time before Harry left for Hogwarts: A magical version of wireless communication to the mundanes' world-wide web. It would allow the PA to be connected to the mundane Internet without using a bulky dial-up modem their computers used. After Harry finished drooling over the presentation, he remarked that Hogwarts and the world wouldn't know what hit them.

* * *

_**Present time:** _

Harry was resting comfortably on the bench when the train gave one last blast of its whistle and lurched into motion. He started grinning wildly: He was _finally_ going to Hogwarts! Yeah, he would have to put up with nine months of potential Albus Dumbledore interactions but if he got sorted into the right House, maybe the Head of said House would limit the interactions. The PA was finally done powering up so Harry opened up the program he'd personally developed called, 'The Potions Lab' and clicked the button to create a new potion. A new screen popped up showing a cutting board and mortar and pestle in the upper right hand corner, a set of knives and a couple of other tools on the left completed the 'preparation station.' From a pull-down menu, he clicked on the tab for creating an oil base then selected which oil he wanted. As an experiment, Harry chose a lightweight coconut oil. From the next pull-down menu, he selected onion juice, jewelweed and neem oil. It seemed odd that he'd need two different oils but according to the Lab's threat indicator, there wouldn't be any harmful interactions. He squinted at the indicator bar, _'As a matter of fact, I don't think it's even twitched once.'_ Just out of curiosity, he added Erumpent Hair and immediately the indicator clicked over to full red and the screen flashed ominously. Grinning to himself that the safety feature of the program was indeed working as it should be, he removed the hair and everything went back to normal.

After a while, Harry gave up on the PA and returned it to his trunk. He glanced around and out the window for the barest second before deciding to go wander up and down the train to see if there was anyone who wanted to be friendly. Stepping out into the aisle, Harry was confronted with another reality of the illogicalness of wizards. If wizards had the capability of expanding the space within a bag (something he'd seen in Diagon Alley) why couldn't they do the same for the aisle within the carriages? He squeezed past a group of older boys wearing green and sneering at everyone smaller than them or wearing a color other than theirs. Ahead of him, there was another group of similarly sized boys wearing red on a collision course with the boys in green. Deciding that he didn't want to be part of the scrum, Harry ducked into a compartment that already had two people inside, one slightly pudgy sandy haired boy and a girl with bushy brown hair.

"Whew! Hi, I'm glad I decided that a surprise visit was better than being part of…that," he gestured to the now growing pile-up of bodies and flailing arms outside the door. He gestured to the empty seat next to the boy, "Do you mind?"

"N, nn, no…" the boy stammered, his eyes widening as he apparently recognized Harry from somewhere.

The girl turned her own wide eyes onto Harry but her appearance was more of general excitement than recognition. When she smiled, Harry saw that she had the cutest dimples and a pair of incisors that stuck out a tiny bit.

"Hi! My name is Hermione Granger. What's yours?"

Harry smiled, "Hello, Hermione Granger. My name is Harry Potter." Both kids squeaked in surprise and he cocked an eyebrow up, "Did I say something wrong?"

Hermione shook her head which caused her bushy hair to bounce, "No, it's just that we're surprised that you're on the train."

Harry looked puzzled and cocked his head to the side, "Why wouldn't I be? How else would I get to Hogwarts?"

Hermione was seemingly at a loss for words so the boy took over, "Hi, Ha…Harry. My name is Neville Longbottom and I think what she meant was, why you don't have your own personal method of transportation like a portkey or an elf?"

Harry snorted and shook his head slightly. When he looked back up, he saw the dejected look on Neville's face, "Whoa, easy there Neville. I wasn't laughing at you; more the idea that I would have my own train or something. I was raised mundane so the idea of…what did you call them? Portkeys? Elf? It's completely new to me."

Now it was Hermione's turn to cock her head in puzzlement, "But all those books about you!" Harry sneered a bit which she just waved her hand dismissively, "I don't mean those kids' books where you go out and battle some silly creature. I'm talking about the books like 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.' Not one of them mentioned that you live like, what did you call them?"

Harry harrumphed, "I call the non-magical people like my family, 'mundanes.' To me calling someone a 'muggle' sounds rather insulting and I've seen those books you were referring to. They're utter garbage; I've never been interviewed for anything that happened that night. How could I know what was going on? I was only fifteen months old. I think the best way for you to get to know me is to just ask me questions. I'm not going anywhere until we get to the station so… (he shifted in his seat to get comfortable) what would you like to know?"

Neville chuckled at the look on Hermione's face as she tried to find the right questions to Harry's challenge, "Okay, I'll start. What's your favorite color?"

Harry grinned happily, "Sunflower yellow, next."

"What's your favorite food?"

"Individual dish or cuisine?"

Neville pursed his lips, "Umm… dish."

"Tacos." Hermione nodded happily to that. Neville just looked confused, "What are tacos?"

"Only the world's most perfect food after pizza," Hermione gushed then launched into a long-winded explanation as to what was inside a taco.

Harry laughed at her enthusiasm but raised his hands to ward off a hurt look from the girl, "Easy, Hermione. I'm not laughing at you, merely your enthusiasm for explanations. Do you have a question for me?"

"Um… What's your favorite hobby?"

Harry grinned widely, "Working on my computer I made along with my primary three and five teachers."

Hermione blinked, "You _made_ a computer?"

Harry held up a finger and announced he would be right back and dashed off out the door. When he returned a few minutes later, he was dragging his trunk behind him. He pulled out his PA then stowed his trunk on the rack. Neville noticed some movement on the floor, dove for it and climbed to his feet cradling a toad in his hands.

"Sorry. This is Trevor; he keeps trying to escape from me."

"' _ **It's too bright and noisy in here.'"**_

Hermione blinked again and subconsciously pulled out a jumper and wrapped it around the toad before placing it gently on the seat next to her. When she looked up, she noticed that both boys were staring at her oddly, "What?"

Neville pointed to the bundle where his toad sat, "Why did you do that?"

Hermione glanced back at the bundled toad and back again to Neville, "Trevor said it was too bright and noisy so I figured if I wrapped him up in something that could block out most of the light and noise, he'd be more comfortable."

Neville was thoroughly confused now, " _Trevor_ said? You can speak to toads?"

She shook her head, "No but I could understand what he said. It's like that with any animal that has a vocal cord. If they can make some sort of meow, bark, neigh, whatever; I understand it as if they were speaking English."

Harry was impressed, "Wow, all I can do is speak to snakes and the occasional lizard that wanders into my aunt's backyard. I wonder what Hedwig sounds like?"

"Who's that?"

"My owl. She was a birthday gift from the guy who took me to get my magical school supplies."

Neville turned his attention back to what Harry had just said, "You said you can speak to snakes?" Harry nodded, "I'd keep that quiet if I were you. Most folks around here consider that to be a trait of a Dark Wizard."

Both Harry and Hermione snorted in aborted laughter before Harry explained, "I don't know what's wrong with this culture. Speaking to snakes or understanding what other animals are saying should be no different than going to another country that doesn't speak English. It sounds weird until you either learn it or have it translated. So I can speak to snakes, to me it's no different than knowing how to speak Spanish."

* * *

After a couple turns of round robin questioning, the three kids turned their attention to the PA which Harry was happy to show off. A lot of the terminology and technology that went into its creation soared past Neville but he just went along with it. Hermione on the other hand, had a computer back home that she spent many hours on learning how to type, play games and draw pictures. Harry handed the PA over to her and explained the features of The Lab and let her play with it while Neville watched over her shoulder.

Watching Neville as he quietly pointed to one thing or another on the screen reminded Harry of the book that he, Mr. Cody and Miss Honeybloom had compiled together. He opened up his trunk and dug around through his bookshelf section for a few moments before finding his target.

"Aha! Here, Neville. This ought to help you understand at least the basics of what the computer is and how it works."

Neville gave him a stink-eye as he read the title, "Computers for Dummies, Harry? Really?"

Harry snorted and dropped his head a bit before looking Neville in the eye again, "Sorry, it's sort of an inside joke amongst mundanes. It doesn't mean that I think you're a dummy."

A bit unsure, Neville took the book and thanked Harry before settling in to read.

* * *

**Hogsmeade Station**

The Hogwarts Express pulled into the tiny station for the town of Hogsmeade and began disgorging its passengers. The older students headed towards some creaky carriages that seemed to move under their own power while the first year students were herded together by Hagrid who arrived swinging a lantern then led down to a beach where a string of boats waited to take them across the lake. Hermione and Neville joined him in one along with another boy by the name of Justin Finch-Fletchley. Just after they left the beach, Harry heard the distinctive cry of an owl and before he knew it, Hedwig landed on the gunwale of the boat.

"Hello, Hed. Glad you could join me."

**[You're welcome, my chick. Thank you for the suggestion to fly here. It really was a nice flight.]**

Harry glanced over at Hermione who quietly translated what his owl had said for him. He nudged her with his arm and smiled his thanks. This led to a flurry of questions from Justin who'd overheard the conversation to which Hermione was happy to answer.

* * *

**In antechamber just off the Main Corridor, Hogwarts Castle**

The Deputy Headmistress had finished her speech and suggested that they smarten themselves up before she returned to take them in to be sorted. Harry overheard a few scattered and whispered questions as to how they would get sorted along with some boastful responses that they'd have to answer a series of questions or that they'd have to wrestle a troll. Harry just rolled his eyes and shook his head. Neville leaned over and asked him if he knew how they were going to get sorted.

"It's a magical hat that peers into your mind and examines what your personality is like. It's in that Hogwarts history book."

Hermione's eyes went wide as she crowded into his personal space, "You've read that book too?"

Harry pulled back a bit, "Yeah, it's on the list so I have to assume the teachers wanted us to read it."

Hermione blushed, "Sorry, I get carried away with learning new things and it makes me really happy to find people who are just as interested." Harry patted her on the shoulder.

"If you could choose right now, which House would you want to be sorted into?" she asked him.

Harry's lips pursed, "I think Hufflepuff."

A blonde-haired boy with a haughty attitude sauntered over and sneered, "Did I hear you correctly, Potter? You actually want to be in the House of the leftovers?"

Harry sighed. He remembered this boy from Madam Malkins, "Yes, Draco, I do. It's the House that seems to be the friendliest. It's a place where there's not only the meeting of the minds but also those who can Dream. Dream up new ideas, new methods, new anything. It seems like the sort of place where someone can have an idea and not get laughed at because 'it's never been done before 'or 'that's a dumb idea.' To me, Hufflepuff House is the House of the Dreamers, The Do-ers, The Musicians, and The Magic Makers. What about you? Where do you hope to go?"

Draco sniffed, "We Malfoys have always gone into Slytherin. It's the House of the Aristocracy of which I am a proud member."

Harry patted him on the shoulder, "Then I wish you well."

* * *

**The Sorting Ceremony, Great Hall**

After a rather ragged and discordant song about the sort of people the Founders looked for, the Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGongall, began calling out names alphabetically to come and sit on the stool while she places the hat upon their heads.

"Abbott, Hannah!" "Hufflepuff!"

"Bones, Susan!" "Hufflepuff!"

On and on the names went until they got to the letter G. "Granger, Hermione!" A long pause then… "Hufflepuff!" Harry clapped and cheered loudly for his friend.

When the list got to the letter L, Neville became visibly nervous. Harry put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "Relax. Whatever happens, I'll still be your friend." Neville's name was called and he squared his shoulders and marched up to the stool. A few moments later (and it appeared that the hat was arguing with Neville) the hat let out an aggrieved sigh and called out, "Hufflepuff!"

Finally, it was Harry's turn… He sat down on the stool and the hat started to yell out, "Gryff…no, that's not a good place… Raven…no, again not the right place… Definitely not Slytherin… Better be…Hufflepuff!"


	2. So This Is Hogwarts

**Chapter 2: So this is Hogwarts…**

**Hufflepuff 1** **st** **Year Dorms, the next morning**

Harry woke up bright and early; the previous night almost seemed like a roller coaster of a dream. He lay quietly while remembering the constant bombardment of questions being thrown at him while he tried to eat his dinner. It was only thanks to the timely intervention of a seventh-year pink-haired witch who threatened the lot of them with something special from the Weasley Twins if they didn't desist. Harry had no clue as to who these twins were but if the looks on the older kids' faces were any indication; these two must be bad news.

After finally dragging his bleary-eyed carcass out of bed and going through his morning routine; Harry grabbed his book bag and filled it with a notebook, a couple of pens and of course, his PA then ambled out into the Puff Common Room. There really wasn't enough time to thoroughly investigate this room but he wasn't worried. He'd have the next seven years to become intimately familiar with his surroundings and judging by the way Neville was practically floating in rapturous joy from one potted plant to the next, he was going to be in good company.

"Hey, Nev! You going to come down from the rafters to join the rest of us mere mortals?" he jokingly commented at the look of utter happiness on his new friend's face. He turned slightly when his nose picked up the cinnamon-y scent of Hermione's shampoo, "Good morning, Hermione."

"Good morning, Harry. What's wrong with Neville?" she replied while looking curiously at the other boy who was now muttering to himself.

"Well, remember what Nev said on the train? That he was in love with all manner of gardening? I heard from one of the older kids that our Head of House, Professor Sprout is also the Herbology teacher and she likes to populate the common room with cuttings and whatnot from her summer travels. He said that Professor Sprout also likes to give impromptu lectures on the various plants here."

With a gesture towards Neville, Hermione grinned, "So Neville here must feel like he's in paradise." Harry chuckled and nodded his head once.

* * *

The Puff firsties were led back up to the Great Hall by their fifth year prefect and quickly settled in to eat their breakfast. Harry was dismayed to learn that the school didn't offer lighter fare for breakfast and according to the prefect, every morning meal consisted of a full English breakfast. _'I'm gonna gain a ton of weight if I eat like this every day.'_ Sighing, he reached for the platter of sausages. Hermione must've heard him because she asked what the problem was.

"I was hoping for cold leftover pizza for breakfast. At my house, the chances were always good that there was half a pie in the fridge."

Hermione looked aghast, "Didn't your family ever cook?"

Harry grunted as he bit into a piece of buttered toast. After swallowing he replied, "Yeah but my uncle was of the opinion that there should always be leftover pizza so he could grab a slice to eat on his way to work," he shrugged his shoulders, "Adults, go figure." She giggled at the mock-exasperated look on his face.

* * *

While they were eating, the rest of the school filtered into the Great Hall. Easily recognizable was the pink-haired witch who plopped down on a bench and laid her head onto the table (something that he could commiserate with.) Harry spotted two red-haired boys; clearly they must be the Weasley Twins, especially since nearly all the Gryffindors were giving them a wide berth. Gesturing with his fork, Harry idly wondered what it was about them that caused everyone else to shudder in fear. Hermione observed the two for a moment before shrugging.

"I don't know. They look normal."

That last sentence must've been some kind of trigger because the twins' picked up on it and turned towards their direction. Dropping down on either side of Harry and Hermione, each twin boy grinned with a slightly wicked expression on their face.

"Hey Gred, did my ears inform me that these two ickle firsties think we look _normal?"_

"That they did, Forge. It makes me wonder if these youngins were ever told of our glorious misdeeds?"

Harry snickered at the verbal tennis match that was going on between the two as they batted comments and observations back and forth. His laughter at their antics only spurred the two on even further.

"Forge, I do believe that this firstie is laughing at us. That's not very nice, young man."

"I agree Gred, terrible manners. What's your name, little Puff?"

Harry speared the one who asked with a sardonic sneer, "Were you not paying attention last night? My name is _clearly_ Draco Malfoy and I am the undisputed Prance of Slytherin. I'm only wearing Hufflepuff colors to hide my true allegiances." Hermione's eyes bugged out and she quickly stuffed a whole slice of toast in her mouth to keep from bursting out into laughter. The twins on the other hand were practically rolling out of their seats.

"Ah! We've got ourselves a live one here, Gred. Well, young sir, welcome to the Ancient and Noble Halls of Hogwarts. We hope that we can work together occasionally to continue bringing laughter and joy to these otherwise dreary inhabitants."

Settling down, Harry held out his hand, "In all honesty, my name is Harry Potter and it's a tentative pleasure to make your acquaintances, Gred and Forge."

With another smirk at his comment on it being a 'tentative pleasure,' both boys shook Harry's hand in return, "Thanks for playing along with us, Harry. It's not every day that a firstie, let alone any of the others, are willing to go head to head with our usual opening."

Harry waved that off, "What's life without a bit of whimsy? Besides, last night one of the seventh years, that pink-haired girl over there," he pointed over to where said girl was now sitting up and eating her breakfast, "She said that if the others at our table didn't let me eat in peace she was going to sic the two of you after them. I don't know what sort of mischief you two get up to but it was apparently enough of a threat that I was given leave to eat."

Gred looked a bit starry-eyed, "That pink-haired girl's name is Nymphadora Tonks and she's the only one in this establishment who can keep up with our pranks, pratfalls and jokes. Just one word of warning, she _hates_ her first name and will lash out at anyone that's not a teacher who dares to use it."

Hermione snorted, "Must make things easier if you need to locate her in a crowded room then. Just call out her first name and wait for the approaching storm." Forge cocked a knowing finger at her.

* * *

"Weasley… Are you both related to Ronald Weasley?" Harry asked after a moment of silence.

The twins grimaced, "Unfortunately, so. We keep hoping that maybe he was adopted but no, our mother swears that he's hers as are we. Why? Did he say or do something?" Hermione grumbled in memory.

Harry sighed, "Yeah, on the train just after we left King's Cross. He tried to muscle his way into our compartment by claiming that there was nowhere else to sit. He then insulted Neville Longbottom by calling him a Squib and completely ignored Hermione when she tried to introduce herself and defend Neville. I finally had enough of his rudeness and had him escorted out by a prefect."

The twins shook their heads in commiseration, "First off, sorry about that. We don't know where our parents went wrong in raising Ronnie. He's always been a bit…greedy if someone got something he didn't."

"I'm going to call him the 'Crimson Prat.' Able to leap tall piles of pratness in a single bound," Hermione dryly commented much to the twins' amusement.

"Gred, that's hilarious! The 'Crimson Prat,' we've got to remember that." Forge chuckled.

"Much better than the tired, old 'Ickle Ronniekins." They all turned to look over at the Gryffindor table where the prat was sitting, trying to stuff as much food into his mouth as possible. Harry was feeling a mite queasy when he saw that Ron wasn't even closing his mouth before speaking.

"Is that normal for him? Talking with his mouth full of food?"

Both twins shook their heads in disgust, "No. Our mother would never have let him get away with it. I think a letter home is in order, I'm afraid to say and if not by us then by Percy."

"Who's that?" Hermione asked.

"Our older brother. He's the new 5th Gryffindor prefect and a truly officious twit if you ask us. Completely pompous and self-aggrandizing. Like we care that he made prefect," one of them muttered annoyed at the prospect of having to put up with said brother while his twin pointed said 'perfect prefect' out of the crowd.

"I'm surprised that you let yourself be sorted into Gryffindor if you knew what he was going to be like," Harry remarked as he finished another bite of his grilled tomato.

Both twins grimaced, "Well, the Hat did suggest that we consider Slytherin but we replied that the colors would clash horribly with our hair, not to mention with our mother's bad attitude towards any House other than Gryffindor."

"Ouch."

Gred nodded and continued, "Right? We're smart enough for Ravenclaw but it's not really the image we wanted to project. We'd've been expected then to get the best grades since high grades are important if you want to get a good paying job in the Ministry." Harry could tell that this explanation was something told in rote as if heard multiple times.

"What about Hufflepuff?"

Forge shrugged, "I dunno. At the time, it was a soft option, you know? Eh, we finally accepted that Gryffindor was the way to go as it offered the path of least resistance from our mother and any expectations of grades."

* * *

"Harry? May I look at the PA again? I want to try something in The Lab," Hermione asked him in an aside. He merely pointed to his bookbag while he continued his conversation with the twins. When she pulled out the leather bound computer, the twins' attention swung over to it.

"What is that?"

"It looks like a piece of glass, a rather thick piece of glass. A mirror, perhaps? Could the young miss be interested in checking her hair?" The twins asked each other, batting their questions back and forth.

Harry laughed, "It's not a mirror though I guess it _could_ be used as one when the power's off. Actually, it's a creation of mine; I call it The Potioneer's Assistant."

"The _what?_ " Both twins exclaimed.

"The Potioneer's Assistant is a fully contained laboratory partner, potion research center and database management all rolled into one. Hermione, if I may?" He took the computer back from her and turned it around so they all could see the screen. Little did they know but the Potions professor, Severus Snape had heard a bit of the introduction and came over to investigate, "With this device, I can compose letters, read documents and send out correspondence to anyone with a computer of their own. I can even print out reports if I desired using a plug-in printer. I don't have that with me; it's too big and heavy so I left it up in my room. Now, by using this touch pen or using the keyboard, I can open and close programs, play a few games or even browse through saved images. One of my programs even allows me to listen to pre-recorded audio files; I've got a couple Queen songs recorded," (Hermione moaned happily.)

"Which ones?" she chirped.

"Um… Bohemian Rhapsody, We will rock you, We are the Champions and a couple of others."

She sat there with a half-lidded dreamy grin on her face, "Awesome. I love their stuff."

Harry gave her a sidelong glance, "Anyways, in the program titled, 'The Potions Lab,' (he clicked on the icon and started the program) you can see that the 'preparation station' is just how it would be in a real laboratory. You have a cutting board, knives, spoons, mortar and pestle in front of you. From there, you can click on these pull-down menus to choose what kind of potion you want to make or modify." He clicked on the tab for 'Existing Potion Recipes' and chose an easy-to-make burn salve paste. The recipe appeared in the right hand side of the screen on what looked like a scroll of parchment, listing out the required ingredients and the steps involved in making it. Both the twins and Severus were amazed by this.

"Now from here I have the option of experimenting with the other ingredients stored within the memory of this program by adding or subtracting it to or from the original recipe. There is a safety feature within the programming that will change the text from black to a bright red. This tells the user that what they're about to use will cause an unsafe reaction. For example, if I was to use Erumpent Hair and try to add it in… (He clicked on the 'Add ingredient(s)' tab, selected the hair and tried to add it into the recipe which caused the text to change colors and the screen to flash warningly.) See? It won't let you proceed until you fix the problem."

Severus slowly slid into the seat next to Harry, startling everyone with his presence and held out his hand, "May I see this…computer?" He requested with a hint of wonder in his voice, "Where did you get this?"

Harry sat up proudly, "I, along with my primary three and five school teachers, have been developing this since I was eight years old."

"Um, Harry?" one twin started, "Doesn't this thing violate the Statute?"

Harry looked puzzled, "The what?"

"The Statute of Secrecy, one of the magical world's highest and most sacred laws. It basically states that whatever we do has to remain a secret from the muggles." Harry sneered lightly at the last word.

"I hate that term, 'Muggles.' Sounds like an insult," he grumbled, "I don't know if it would or not. It probably would since magic was used to alter the original components as well as creating solutions to existing problems. I figure as long as I don't try to market this to anyone outside of the magical world, I should be fine."

"Didn't you say that your primary school teachers helped in making it? Isn't that a danger to the Statute?" one twin inquired as everyone looked back to Harry.

Harry shook his head, "Miss Honeybloom is a mundane-born witch and Mr. Cody is a Squib." The twins and Severus looked amazed at that tidbit while Hermione nodded sagely.

Severus was still experimenting with the features of The Potions Lab, "What about powering this computer? Does it use magic or electricity?" Harry and Hermione looked a bit surprised that he knew how to pronounce the word correctly. Severus looked up at the silence and saw their faces and sneered lightly, "I partially grew up in the non-magical world. So? Magic or electricity?"

Harry shook himself out of his stupor, "Um, both. There's a runic array embedded within the power module as well as an ordinary power cord. If a mundane were to ever open this and saw the runes, they'd most likely think that it was just an engineering stamp."

"Clever thinking. Well, Mr. Potter I look forward to seeing what else you can do in my class. I assume that you can actually _brew_ a real potion and not just an electronic one?"

"Yes, sir. I love brewing potions. It's relaxing and fun."

Severus silently acknowledged that as he rose from the bench, "We shall see, Puffs have my class on Friday."

* * *

**Charms Class**

As breakfast spun down, Professor Sprout approached the first years with their class schedules. She recommended that they follow the new prefects around to their classes for the first week so as to not get lost. Their first class was going to be Charms, taught by the diminutive Professor Flitwick. They headed back down to their dorms to retrieve their books then hurried off to their first class. Upon entering the classroom, Hermione was all for getting front row seats. Amused but a little bit more cautious, Harry recommended that they find something in the second row. When asked why, he replied that some teachers tend to overlook those in the front row because the kids are usually either overeager or hyperactive and in need of increased supervision. By seating themselves in the second row, it sends the message that 'I'm still eager to learn but not so much that I need you to constantly watch over me.'

Their Charms classes would be shared with the Ravenclaws. As the kids in the bronze and blue filtered in, Harry was dismayed to see everyone staying within their own Houses. He spotted one girl whose twin sister was in Gryffindor and waved her over, "Hi, my name is Harry Potter and I would love it if you were to join us. We Puffs don't bite, you know."

The girl in question introduced herself as being 'Padma Patil' and blushed in sweet embarrassment, "You're right, Harry. I don't know why I thought that we had to sit with our housemates. It doesn't make sense." Hermione introduced herself as well and the two girls shook hands.

* * *

Charms Professor Filius Flitwick watched in amusement and pride at the interactions between Mr. Potter and Miss Patil from his spot at his desk. He got up and climbed onto his stack of books to gaze out amongst his newest batch of students, "Welcome first years to Charms class! My name is Professor Flitwick. Today we'll be starting simply; it'll be mostly note-taking. I know, I know. Who wants to take notes when there's a whole exciting world of charm casting to be done? Well, in order to pass my class, you'll have to know how to do both. So let's begin shall we?"

Over the course of the next forty-five minutes, Professor Flitwick had them writing down notes on how to properly hold their wands as well how to pronounciate the incantations so as to not get unexpected results. "Grip the handle of your wands, and give it a gentle, up and down S curve swish. At the end of that swish, you should sharply flick the tip of your wand." As Harry concentrated on his wrist action, his mind went back to some of the theory that Miss Honeybloom and Mr. Cody taught him about Charms. One such theory was causing something to happen non-verbally. Without realizing it and with a firm swish and flick, Harry caused his pen to rise up into the air, hovering about a foot off the desk.

A loud gasp was heard from everyone in the vicinity of Harry's desk, including Professor Flitwick, "I say! Congratulations, Mr. Potter! What you've done there is what's known as a non-verbal casting of ' _Wingardium Leviosa'_ or the incantation which makes things fly. I'm impressed, my boy; most students don't attempt non-verbal until they reach their sixth year of study. What made you try this?"

Harry just made a bemused face and shrugged, "I had prior tutoring in Charms Theory before starting school and it just sort of popped into my mind to get the pen to float in the air. It wasn't something I was actually _trying_ to do."

Professor Flitwick beamed at him, "Nevertheless, I'm impressed and proud of you. Take ten points for such excellent spell work."

Harry discretely overheard a couple of the others muttering, "Of course, Harry Potter was able to do non-verbal casting. He's The-Boy-Who-Lived!" He shook his head at the continued inanity of the magical world's belief that he had some sort of god-like powers as he went back to his note-taking.

* * *

**Transfiguration**

After a surprising demonstration of an Animagus transformation where Professor McGonagall changed from her cat form into her human form then proceeded to change a desk into a pig and then back again; she too had Harry and the others take copious amounts of notes on the basics of Transfiguration including the formulas involved and the concepts involved. There was only the scratching sound of quills writing on the parchment for the first thirty minutes. Minerva watched silently and moved amongst the students as they wrote, occasionally pointing out a particular bit of information that they might've missed when she stopped at Harry's desk with a frown on her face.

"Mr. Potter? Why are you not using a quill like everyone else? Did you forget to get some when you were in Diagon Alley?"

Harry rolled his eyes slightly, "I _tried_ but Mr. Scrivenshaft refused to let me buy any quills. He said he had a standing order from the former Head of the Potter Family to not allow any Potter male use quills, only biros."

That caught Minerva on the hop. Blinking like her namesake, she remembered when she'd heard about that, "Oh, yes. I had forgotten about that. Your grandfather was so disgusted by his penmanship as well as that of his son's that when biros were first marketed in muggle Britain, he made sure to buy up a set as well as the cartridges to refill the ink. He then contracted with Scrivenshaft to do exactly what you said and never let a Potter suffer from the use of a quill ever again. Very well then, continue with your notes, Mr. Potter." The other students were whispering to themselves about this new bit of knowledge; the mundane-born especially, writing with quills was _so old-fashioned!_

* * *

**Friday, the end of the first week**

By the time that Friday rolled around, Harry had made the decision that the two classes he despised the most were History and DADA. History was 'taught' by a ghost who only taught the subject of Goblin Rebellions. According to legend, their History teacher, Professor Binns died in his sleep while in between classes. Harry figured it was because he'd listened to himself drone on and on about various Goblins and their supposed misdeeds against the wizards of the era. With his Defense Against the Dark Arts class, the problem wasn't the class or the material but his teacher there, Professor Quirrell, the man had the most vexing case of stuttering he'd ever heard. On top of that, the professor wore a turban that stunk to high heaven of heavy garlic that he _claimed_ was to ward off vampires. The class itself was interesting but trying to take notes from someone who could barely speak an entire sentence without tripping over their words or trying to breathe without gagging on the stench was nearly impossible. He left both classes with a headache and a fervent wish he could hire a tutor for both.

The other classes held him in varying levels of interest. Herbology was clearly Neville's area of expertise. The eager boy had a near mythical ability to get even the most recalcitrant plant to do whatever he wanted. Professor Sprout was nearly in a rapturous joy when she learned of this. Even Harry, with his prior knowledge of how to maintain a home garden routinely caused the adult witch to burst out into proud smiles. Astronomy took place really late at night which left everyone bleary-eyed and dragging the following morning.

* * *

On top of that, Harry could now count two people whom he despised more than the teachers of those classes. Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy: two boys with the same sort of self-entitlement but opposite ends of the financial scale. As Hermione had called him, the 'Crimson Prat' seemed to be utterly incapable of complex thought. Conversations about anything other than Quidditch in general or some team called the 'Chudley Cannons' in particular, eating food or playing chess went right over the boy's head. There was even a few times where Harry would've sworn that Ron had tilted his head and whined in confusion like a dog. The chess playing was actually something that Harry enjoyed on occasion but to play it to the exclusion of everything else bordered on obnoxious. Finally, was the boy's insistence that he and Harry were old mates from before coming to Hogwarts and constantly made up tales of the adventures they went on. No matter how many times Harry denied even knowing who his family was, the rumors (or the boy) didn't stop. Harry resolved to speak with an adult soon.

Draco Malfoy was just your typical spoiled, little rich kid who whined 'When my father hears about this!' whenever he didn't get his way. There'd been a few of his type back at St. Grogory's and the best thing Harry learned to do whenever they had to interact was to keep the time spent as short as possible. Both Harry and Hermione felt sorry for the two large boys who hung around the blonde git and tried to include them in other activities whenever they could. It turned out that the two boys, Vincent Crabbe and Greg Goyle, were actually a lot smarter and cunning than most people gave them credit for. Their habit of standing quietly and appearing to be dumb brutes disguised their ability to just listen and learn then use that secretly gained knowledge for their own benefits.

* * *

**Potions class**

Friday morning at 10am, Harry and the other first year Puffs lined up outside of Professor Snape's Potions laboratory/classroom. Hermione kept giggling at the look on his face every time she glanced over in his direction. He kept bouncing on his toes, impatient to get started.

Another one of their cohorts, Susan Bones, nudged Hermione about what that was all about.

"Harry is in love with making potions, apparently and has a computer he built that has a program to help create or modify existing potion recipes without the need to touch ingredients."

Susan must've looked confused because she piped up with, "What's a computer?"

Hermione nudged Harry on the arm, "Susan is curious as to what a computer is. Where's yours?"

Harry dug into his bag and pulled out his PA and powered it on. After a quick overview of a computer's capabilities, he showed the gathering crowd of Puffs and Slytherin firsties what a computer looked like.

At precisely ten am, the door to the lab quickly opened and Severus stepped out; a sneer growing on his face, "Inside."

Severus strode up to the front of the room and gave his customary speech about what he could teach them if they weren't the usual sort of dunderheads he normally had to put up with. He turned and faced Harry with a glint in his eye.

"Mr. Potter…our newest celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added the powdered root of asphodel into an infusion of wormwood?"

Since Harry already had the Potions Lab program loaded, he quickly entered in the requested ingredients and read off the information in no time, "Professor, by themselves you would get nothing but a soggy mess. But if you were to add them with standard potion water, valerian root, sopophorus bean, a sloth brain, moondew and a few other stabilizing ingredients you would get the Draught of Living Death."

Slowly nodding his acceptance of that answer, Severus then asked what the accepted final form should be.

"Well, according to the directions, it should first appear a light lilac color then transition to be as clear as fresh water with no odor or taste but…"

"But?"

After a pause Harry glanced up, "I'm sorry professor. I got distracted by some of the notes. If the brewer wanted to adjust the strength of the potion, it would affect the color and clarity of the final form."

Severus was now curious, "What are the variations?"

"Harry ran his finger down the screen, "Well, it says here that if the water turns a grey-ish murky color then the effects are half of normal whereas if the water has a deathly sort of stench to it, the strength is double that of normal." Severus strode up and took the PA from Harry. He read through the notes and was impressed.

"These are not your notes?" Harry shook his head.

"No sir, I was corresponding with a Potions Master in the United States and he passed along his version of the recipe and side effects to me when I told him of the cataloging project I was working on."

Severus could only shake his head in amazement as he gently set the PA back down on the table, "Five points to Hufflepuff, Mr. Potter for your correct answers. Please keep this work ethic up. You're just like your mother."

* * *

**Their first weekend**

Harry lay back on the sofa in the Puff common room and sighed as his back conformed to the softness of the seat cushion. He quietly observed the older students as they talked, laughed, played games or with each other and in some cases, cuddled with each other.

Hermione came padding over in her favorite pair of cotton, rosy red heart covered tracksuit bottoms, a T-shirt with some kind of writing on it and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers on her feet. She plopped down next to him on the sofa and leant into him for comfort.

"Comfortable?" he laughed lightly as he repositioned himself.

"Kind of. My pillow keeps moving away from me."

He snorted and gestured to her shirt, "What does your shirt say?"

She tugged out the front with her fists so Harry could take a look. The writing resolved itself to read, "I'm allergic to stupidity. I break out in sarcasm." Harry laughed at that.

**[Hannah! Where are you? I'm lost and need some cuddles.]**

Hermione looked down to see a tiny kitten walking past and meowing plaintively. She picked up the kitten which squirmed to be put down, "Hush, little one. I'm taking you to Hannah. Harry, I'll be right back." She headed off towards the girls' dorms. A few minutes later and she returned to retake her spot on the couch. The pink-haired girl, Nympha-something Tonks was sitting there as well chatting up Harry.

"Hi! You must 'Something not to be uttered' Tonks," Hermione giggled as she held out her hand to shake.

Tonks laughed and bobbed her head, "Good one. I like that though it might get to be a mouthful after a while. It's just easier to go with Tonks. I swear I don't know what my mother was thinking when she gave me that hideous name."

Harry grimaced, "At least it's a lot more original than my name. 'Hey, who is that? Who? The kid over there. You know, the Harry kid."

Tonks shook her head in amusement, "Ha! I get it. Cute, Harry. So, Hermione is it? Harry here said that you know how to understand animal speech?"

Hermione beamed, "Yup, it was a shock for both my parents and I when it happened for the first time. I think I was about six when a neighborhood cat was looking for a sheltered place to have her babies. I let the cat into my room and got her all fixed up with some blankets. When my parents found me digging through our refrigerator looking for fish, I told them what the cat asked me. They must've thought I was nuts or something. They then followed me back into my room where I showed them the cat. When it happened in full view of them the last time, we were visiting a relative who had a ranch; I was able to translate what their pig was saying."

Harry cocked his head in mirth, "And what _did_ the pig have to say?"

Hermione blushed, "Um... It was a bunch of swear words and not nice things about the owners."

Tonks scrunched up her face and changed her nose to a pig's snout and oinked a couple of times before relaxing and letting her face reset itself. Both kids were astounded by her feat of self-transfiguration.

"Wow! How did you do that? I didn't see you use a wand or hear you say anything!" Hermione babbled at full speed. Tonks reached out and covered the younger girl's mouth with her hand.

"Whoa, slow down girl! There's a speed limit here in the common room. No running, especially of the questions. To answer your first question, I'm what's known as a 'metamorphmagus.' This means I can willingly alter my appearance to pretty much anything I see. I try to limit my changes to that of humans with the occasional other species just to keep life interesting."

"I wish I could do that. I'd love to be able to change my eyes," Harry quipped.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Hermione practically growled/yelled at him before blushing in epic proportions as she realized what she'd said. She shyly glanced around the room; the others perked their heads up to find out what caused the commotion before turning back to their own things. Tonks was grinning like a loon at her predicament.

"Got something to share with the class, kiddies?"

Hermione stood up quickly and danced around in a tight, uncertain circle, "I um… I just meant that… oh, bother. Harry, your eyes are gorgeous and shouldn't be messed around with."

Harry could only stammer his thanks, "Th…Thanks, Hermione. I just meant that I wish I could change my eyes so I didn't have to wear glasses anymore. They're a hindrance more than anything."

Hermione was still blushing and muttered something about hiding in her room until it was time to graduate. Harry stood and gathered her up in his arms and gave her a gentle hug.

"Please don't. I like having you around. You're a fun person and an energetic personality that is like a burst of sunlight on a cloudy day." Hermione practically swooned from the compliment.

Tonks stared at Harry, her hair rapidly changing into a rainbow of colors and unabashedly stated, "Damn, Harry! Eleven years old and you got better moves than some of the older boys. Hermione, you better lay your claim now before he reaches puberty. He's gonna have the girls throwing themselves at him with comments like that."

* * *

**One week later, in the Great Hall for lunch**

Harry was idly scratching out some notes and diagrams for some programs and circuits he wanted to experiment with. Hermione was chatting with some of the girls about something…female-y. He'd heard bits and pieces of their conversation and thought it best to stay out of it. A body sitting down across from him caused him to look up. Justin's smiling but puzzled expression asked the obvious question of 'what are you doing?'

"I'm just noodling with some computer ideas. I'm trying to come up with a circuit to control a peripheral device that could analyze liquid samples for potions class. What…" he finally noticed what was different about Justin, "What happened to your face?" Justin's face was now sporting black and white striped fur.

Justin touched his face and sighed, "I got pranked apparently. I'm hazarding a guess that it was from the Weasley Twins since I share a dorm with you and you've not been messing around with potions, for all that I've noticed."

Harry slowly shook his head, "No, I wouldn't do that unless I had your permission. Why did they prank you?"

Justin shrugged and pulled over a plate of club sandwiches, "I don't know," he said right before taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. When he swallowed, "Maybe it had something to do with the argument I was having with one of the Gryffindor first years about how the muggleborns were going to be used as test subjects. We were joking around but I guess the Twins saw it differently," he shrugged and went back to his sandwich.

"How long will the effects last?"

"Dunno."

Harry dug around in his bag and pulled out a bag of lemon-colored lumps, "Here, suck on this and see if it helps get the transformation to end faster."

Justin picked one out and held it up for inspection, "What is it?"

"I call it a potion neutralizer and rather than carrying around bottles of the stuff, Miss Honeybloom taught me how to turn it into candy-form. It's not candy by any means, more like a medicine gel pill."

"Why is it lumpy?" Justin asked as he experimentally squeezed it.

Harry shrugged a shoulder, "I don't know; it doesn't affect anything." Justin accepted that and put the neutralizer in his mouth and let it dissolve. Within a few moments, the prank transformation reversed itself and left Justin with a happy, furless face.

"Sweet! Thanks, Harry."

"You're welcome. Now, I think we should think about some sort of revenge prank. You interested?"

Justin's spreading evil grin was all the answer he needed to give.

* * *

_**Later in the day…** _

Gathering up a bunch of their mundane-born friends and explaining what sort of prank Harry and Justin had in mind; they set off to spread the tale of 'The Goose Ghoul.'

It was late at night; Harry, Hermione and Justin were sitting on the floor surrounded by their friends and housemates. The lights were turned down low and the fire in the hearth was only glowing coals.

"Thank you all for joining with us tonight," he intoned mysteriously. Hermione was nearly busting a gut from the display. "It's my duty to inform all of you magically-raised that there are some spooks and specters that exist outside of the safe confines of Magical Britain. I am, of course, talking about 'The Goose Ghoul.'" The other kids leaned in and held their breaths carefully. Some were clutching their pillows tightly as he, along with Justin and Hermione filling in various details about the sordid tale that surrounded the 'The Goose Ghoul.'

"Legend has it that the Goose Ghoul seeks out random people for its own nefarious humor. It supposedly feeds on their fear but no one really knows. It possesses random people, usually those who walk alone down darkened hallways or back alleys and once possessed, the host is forced to wander the streets calling out, "Duck… Duck… Duck…" When it finds the right type of victim, the host lunges out and grabs the victim by the arm yelling, "GOOSE!" Harry jumped forward when he yelled it, scaring the other kids, "Then the process begins all over again…"

The kids were shivering in nervous fear that there was something like that that could exist.

Hermione picked up the tale, "The mysterious thing is; the Ghoul can hibernate for a while. The host will never know it until it takes over their minds. You could walk past someone, never knowing if they could be a host…" she ended with wide eyes.

Justin finished it, "So be careful when you're out late at night. If you hear the haunting call of, 'Duck… Duck… Duck…' Run, run away as fast as you can and get to somewhere brightly lit and with lots of other people."

* * *

By the end of the next day there were nervous, slightly fearful grins and other expressions on the faces of the magically-raised firsties from all four Houses. It seemed that Harry and the other mundane-born had done their jobs well. The Slytherin firsties seemed to be the most affected by the tale, which was surprising since there were no mundane-born within their House. Hermione quietly went over to find out how they heard of the tale and learned that they'd sat in with the Ravenclaws during one evening in the library before closing.

A couple of those same Ravenclaws even came up to Harry (when he asked why, they said it was because he was The-Boy-Who-Lived and _must_ know things) and asked him if he knew why the Goose Ghoul was an actual ghoul and not a spirit or wraith since ghouls had their own bodies. Thinking quickly, he replied that the mundane version of ghouls had no bodies, which was easily accepted by the others.

* * *

**Thursday 19 September, Hufflepuff Common Room**

Hermione's twelfth birthday party wasn't a raucous affair, which is how she preferred it. The Puff firsties did wish her a happy birthday accompanied by a lot of hugs and well-wishes but aside from a card and some sugar-free treats from her parents, not much was done about it.

That was until Saturday…

Saturday morning, Hermione entered the common room only to be visually assaulted by streamers, a large banner and all of her friends, including Harry, yelling, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Hermione burst into tears. She felt Harry embrace her with a comforting hug before being passed around to the others to do the same. There were a couple of handmade presents as well as a card that had been signed by everyone. A cake had been made in the kitchens; she blew out all twelve candles and cut out the first piece for herself then let Professor Sprout distribute the rest.

* * *

Severus was preparing for his next class when he heard the loudly whispered chatter coming from outside his office door. He got up and listened carefully as the children outside were discussing the ramifications of this…'Goose Ghoul' roaming the halls in search of its next victim. He went back to his desk and tried to remember if he'd ever heard of such a creature from his childhood but couldn't come up with anything. When he heard the name of Harry Potter being bandied about in relation to the story, he knew that this just _had_ to be a prank of some kind.

* * *

_**About fifteen minutes later…** _

Harry knocked on Professor Snape's door after being summoned by the man to answer a couple of questions.

"Mr. Potter, thank you for coming so promptly. I have some questions regarding some sort of ghoul that is only known to mug…er, mundane children?"

Whatever he was expecting, laughter was not it.

"Oh, that's hilarious! It's _still_ going? That's perfect."

Severus quirked an eyebrow up, "So just what _is_ the 'Goose Ghoul?'

Harry gestured to a chair and was given leave to sit, "The Goose Ghoul is a tale that Hermione, Justin and I along with the other mundane-borns came up with to scare the magically-raised kids as revenge for a prank they pulled on us two weeks ago." He related what Justin had told him.

"So this ghoul is based on what?"

"You know the kids' game of 'Duck, duck, duck, goose?' where the one who is 'it' runs around a circle of seated kids and taps them on the shoulder while saying, 'Duck' before randomly selecting someone to be the 'goose.' The goose then chases after the first kid who tries to sit back down in the empty space."

Severus burst out laughing, "Oh, that's brilliant. A child's game… It's perfect because the magically-raised have no idea as to the truth. How… no, do you know who is being most affected by this tale?"

Harry grinned evilly, "Your Slytherin first years, specifically Draco and Theo. Blaise on the other hand, doesn't seem to let _anything_ bother him."

Severus waved that off, "You'd have to know what Mr. Zabini's home life is like."

"Anyway, that's what all this chaos is about. I'm just surprised that the Weasley Twins haven't caught on and done something to add to the prank." Severus visibly shuddered.

"Let's hope they don't. I think I'd have nightmares if they did."

* * *

By the end of September, Harry was fully immersed with the way things operated amongst the kids of Hogwarts. Rumors were rampant, the magically-raised were incredibly gullible and the standards of education were horribly outdated. In his DADA class, Professor Quirrell kept making incorrect references to hazards people faced twenty years ago, like children throwing heavy darts at each other for fun or how roving gangs of children were allowed to roam neighborhoods from sunup to sundown. Professor McGonagall had finally relented after a number of mundane-born had repeatedly requested that they be allowed to use biros as well since that's what they'd grown up with and most comfortable using.

* * *

**End of the Month Staff Meeting, Teacher's Lounge**

Albus breezed in a few minutes late to their meeting as was his usual standard. Minerva growled at him once again to set a proper example and as usual, he ignored her.

"Welcome everyone to the first 1991 staff meeting. Does anyone wish to start?"

Minerva, as was her wont of seniority, stood and announced that her cubs were performing as expected along with the usual antics from the Weasley Twins. "Of my newest students, the only ones I'm most concerned with are the youngest Weasley, Ronald and Seamus Finnegan. Mr. Weasley's poor attitude towards studying and general antagonistic behavior towards others makes me reluctantly believe that he may be just not ready to be in a school setting. I have written to his parents about what they would like to do about going forward but I have yet to hear anything in response. Mr. Finnegan's problems seem to stem from a low attention span. From the work that I have seen him accomplish, he does understand it but if something as simple as a butterfly flits past a window, his attention is consumed by its passing."

Pomona was up next and reported that all was well with her newest charges and rhapsodized over having two prodigies, Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter amongst her students. Albus leant in and interjected, "Are you sure that it is wise to have the two boys in such close proximity to each other? I've heard that Mr. Longbottom has a tendency towards causing accidents. I think it would be prudent to separate them for Mr. Potter's safety."

Pomona shook her head in disbelief, "Nonsense, Albus. There's nothing wrong with either boy. Mr. Longbottom is a gentle, easy-going soul who has not caused one accident in any of my classes nor in the common room. If anything, he does mention being nervous in potions class." All eyes swung over to Severus who sighed in mild annoyance.

"I'll admit that I tend to hover over their cauldrons looking for mistakes that can be easily avoided. Perhaps I've been a little heavy-handed with Longbottom but if he's going to pass my class and take his OWLs, he's going to need to learn how to tune out any distractions. If anything, I blame his grandmother for being so overbearing during his formative years. From what I've learned, she never let him make mistakes without reprimanding him overly harshly."

Albus made a clicking noise with his tongue, "Ah, Severus, there's nothing that a little discipline wouldn't fix in a timid child. It builds character in one so young to be able to overcome such treatment." Both Pomona and Minerva just stared in displeasure at Albus' statement. "What about Mr. Potter? How has he been doing in your class, Severus? Is he anything like his father?"

Severus guessed that the headmaster was trying to goad him into some kind of negative reaction. For what purpose, he didn't have a clue but he was loathe to play along, "On the contrary, Mr. Potter seems to have prodigious skill in ingredient preparation as well as a steady temperament required for excellent brewing. He's been an absolute joy to have in my class."

Albus was frowning by the end, "I'm surprised by that given how he was raised away from our world and couldn't possibly have knowledge of potion making."

Severus shrugged, "I would have to guess that the muggle education system is responsible for that. From our chats, Mr. Potter has stated that the modern muggle or as he calls them, mundane chemistry classes are miles above and beyond what we have here at the school. On top of that, he always carries around his personal Potioneer's Assistant."

Flitwick tapped on the table, "I've heard a few children mention it but I'm still a little hazy on what exactly it is."

Severus explained what he'd learned from Harry regarding the device's history and development to the others, much to their growing disbelief and amazement. Albus on the other hand was growing visibly upset but wouldn't elaborate on why.

* * *

**Headmaster's Office after the Staff Meeting**

Albus sat in his chair quietly sucking on a lemon drop and ruminating over what he'd learned at the staff meeting.

' _What the hell happened with those modifications of the Blood Wards I installed on the Dursley residence? They were supposed to foster and perpetuate animosity and distrust towards the boy by the adults! Why is the boy so well-prepared and knowledgeable about our world? It doesn't help the boy to be so…outgoing when I need him to humble and easily led, er…guided. He was supposed to be retrieved from that miserable existence and look to me as his savior but if what the others have said is true, Harry Potter does not want anything to do with me. I must change this; I need him to look to me for guidance. I can't have him looking towards the future. He needs to learn that only through his sacrifice and acceptance that his happiness means nothing in the long run will be for the Greater Good of our world.'_


	3. Ten Years Ago Today...

**Chapter 3: Ten Years Ago Today…**

**Saturday 5 October, Hogwarts Library**

Harry was busy poring over his Transfiguration textbooks with a stack of reference books lying on the table next to him. His homework nearly complete and his challenge to Hermione was one step closer to fruition. The two kids were having an open competition of sorts to see who could get consistently high grades in all their classes. The winner got bragging rights as well as getting to choose the weekend activity. Harry had wanted to go explore the castle while Hermione wanted to play some football. Ordinarily, Harry had no problem with football. As long as it was being played on the telly, and someone else was playing.

It still amazed him that the sweet, innocent-looking Hermione Granger was such a fervent football fanatic of her home team, the Crawley Town 'The Reds.' The only other person who could keep up with her when she started going on about game statistics was Dean Thomas of Gryffindor, who according to him, was a loyal West Ham follower. They had fun playing 'what ifs?' seeing as how West Ham was a top flight club while Crawley was in League 2 and as such that the only way they could've ever played against each other was if they met in the FA Cup or the League Cup. Their debates and arguments were quickly passing into legendary status; it would appear to bystanders that the two kids were about to get into a knock-down, drag-out fight yet the moment they were needed for something else, it was like a switch was thrown and their personalities went right back to normal. Neither one had any animosity towards each other; quite unlike what always happened whenever someone tried to argue with Ron Weasley about the Chudley Cannons and whether or not they should be disbanded after so many years of being at the absolute bottom of the league and a total embarrassment to the proud sport of Quidditch. The last kid who tried still had the scar on his face where Ronald belted him one.

' _How he's still a student is anyone's guess. Back home, he would've been suspended at the least with a strong likelihood of being expelled.'_

* * *

Steering his attention back to the topic of transfiguring a piece of parchment into a box, Harry wrote down the incantation as well as the most important step of visualizing what he wanted the parchment to turn into. Just out of curiosity, he tore off a segment from his roll, pointed his wand at the scrap and intoned _'Convertere plana est arca.'_ In his mind, he held the image of a simple six-sided square box; within a moment, the parchment began to shiver then molded itself into the desired shape. Grinning happily, he then tried converting the box back into the parchment.

That didn't go so well. Scrunching up his face in confusion, he pondered what went wrong. He took out a fresh sheet and wrote out the steps that he'd done then picked up the misshapen box and packed up the rest of his gear.

' _If going from A to B worked, then logically B to A ought to get the desired results. That's the way it was when I was developing The Lab program and did that boneheaded value swap…'_

Harry climbed the stairs and headed down the hallway until he arrived at Professor McGonagall's office door. He knocked twice but got no answer, "Hmph. If I was a teacher and I didn't want to spend time in my office, where would I go?"

"You could try the Teacher's Lounge, young sir."

Harry whirled around looking for the owner of the voice he heard. A portrait of a red-haired nobleman waved at him, "Oh! Thanks. Where would the Teacher's Lounge be?"

"Go down the stairs to the Great Hall but instead of turning left, turn right; the Lounge is the fourth door."

"Thank you, sir. Erm…what is your name?"

The portrait bowed, "I am the portrait of Godric Gryffindor, young sir."

Harry blinked and felt his mouth slide open in shock, "No _way_ …"

Godric smiled smugly, "Why is that such a surprise?"

That stumped Harry, _'Why would that be a surprise? It makes sense that one of the Founders of Hogwarts would have a portrait.'_ "Well, I'm just surprised that your portrait is hanging here of all places. Shouldn't you be in the Headmaster's office?"

Godric snorted lightly, "My home frame is in that office but I prefer to spend as little time there."

"Really? Why?"

Godric shifted uncomfortably, "Let's just say that the current headmaster and I do not see eye to eye on a lot of things." Harry acknowledged that and left it alone.

"Do you know if the other three have portraits here?"

"They do. All three have their home frames in the head's office but Helga likes to spend her time in the gilded frame near the greenhouses, Rowena has one near the Library and Salazar just likes to wander."

"Did I hear my name being uttered?" A new voice was heard as a regal looking man swaggered in from the left.

Waving his hand at Harry, Godric introduced the two to each other. Salazar nodded his head in Harry's direction while the boy merely waved shyly.

"So, young Harry. To which illustrious House do you belong and which year are you in?" Salazar inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm a first year in Hufflepuff House."

"That's a good House, not as good as mine of course," he replied haughtily. Godric slapped him on the shoulder, "Dork." Salazar just laughed.

Harry was intrigued, "You two act like brothers rather than rivals."

Godric snorted, "When we were alive, we were forbidden to be in the same room unsupervised. We tended to prank the heck out everyone and it didn't take much to set us off. The Grand Staircase is proof of that." He then related the story of how the two of them were waiting impatiently for Rowena to descend the stairs and thought it'd be hilarious to send the witch on a circuitous route by charming the stairs to change directions at random times. The end result was a descent that ordinarily took ten minutes now took upwards of thirty or more.

Harry looked confused, "But wouldn't she realize that she was being pranked as she descended?"

Salazar chuckled at the memory, "Rowena was always reading something. It got to the point that she would descend the stairs holding onto the railing with one hand while her nose was buried in a book. She never paid attention to where she was."

Harry laughed, "You two sound like the Weasley Twins, Fred and George. They're the pranksters in the school these days."

Both Salazar and Godric grinned, "We know those two rapscallions and both approve of their antics wholeheartedly. Same as we did when your father and his friends were here in the castle."

Harry's eyes widened dramatically, "My father was a prankster? I never knew that. My aunt really didn't know him all that well."

Godric bowed his head while Salazar wiped a painted tear from his eyes, "We were saddened greatly to learn of your father's death. His time here was one of light and laughter."

* * *

The two Founders continued to chat and point out various tidbits of fun information about things in the castle as they led Harry to where the Teacher's Lounge was located and before they left, Harry had one more question, "Why does everyone believe that you two had that legendary fight that caused Salazar to be expelled if you treat each other like brothers?"

This time it was Salazar's turn to shift uncomfortably, "You know the saying that history is written by the victors?" Harry nodded, "Well, over time things that were said or done were either omitted or misrepresented. I want to state for the record that I have _never_ had a problem with muggleborns coming to the school to learn magic. It was their _families_ I had a problem with. You have to understand, back in those days; literacy and education were in short supply while superstition and greed were in abundance. The Roman Catholic Church had a big problem with magic users and actively hunted us. It was my living self's fault that he didn't have the right words to describe his idea to the others. I have since then figured out what _should have_ been said but it's frankly too late."

"What was his idea?"

"What has been recorded is that he wanted to keep magic in all-magical families. There are some that take that to mean that muggleborns should've been killed off. No, what he meant was to take the children away from their muggle families and raise them in all magical families. What many forget or choose to ignore is that this was done to protect them from the Darkness. What _should've_ been said was that he wanted to _exchange_ children between our two worlds. In the magical world, Squib children cannot thrive and vice versa with the muggleborn children. His idea was to setup an exchange program where we'd work with the Church to swap children who looked similar to the families they were going to. You know like hair and eye color, general physical build, that sort of thing."

"So what happened?"

Salazar grunted, "What else? Greed happened. The aristocracy of both sides wanted only 'certain' children to be exchanged and those who weren't were usually from rival territories. The exchange _did_ work for about a year but in the end, it was doomed to failure."

Harry shook his head in commiseration, "It sounds like the exchange would've stopped the Statute of Secrecy from existing."

"Right? There'd be no need for it since the tensions of trying to raise a magical or non-magical child would've been eliminated. The idiocy of short-sighted men, I guess."

Harry thanked the two portraits for their help and the wonderful history lesson, "Before we separate, I'm curious as to why you aren't teaching History of Magic? You'd be a heck of a lot better than Professor Binns. All he 'teaches' is Goblin Rebellions and in such a drone that it puts everyone to sleep."

Godric and Salazar didn't say anything but judging from the looks on their faces, Harry surmised that this was one of those things that they didn't agree with headmaster on.

* * *

_**Lunchtime, Great Hall…** _

Harry had just sat down when Hedwig flew in and dropped off a magazine addressed to him. He thanked her with a chunk of roast beef and a kiss on her beak. She huffed and nuzzled his ear before taking flight again. He turned to the magazine and saw that it was a trade journal on modern chemistry. Inside was a note written by Mr. Cody.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope things are going well with you and the PA. Life is pretty normal around here, nothing exciting to note. I'm sending you this journal because the main article covers a section of analysis that I've never heard of being used in the magical world: Gas Chromatography. I was hoping that if you were interested and if Professor Snape were to help, we might be able to figure out how to make a peripheral for potioneering. I'm in need of something creative to spark up my days._

_Yours truly,_

_Robert_

Harry flipped to the marked page and began reading. The article was an introductory course into what gas chromatography was and written for chemistry majors so there were a fair few technical terms:

' _Gas chromatography (GC) is an analytical technique has been in use since 1952 and is used to separate the chemical components of a sample mixture and then detect them to determine their presence or absence and/or how much is present. These chemical components are usually organic molecules or gases. For GC to be successful in their analysis, these components need to be volatile, usually with a molecular weight below 1250 Da, and thermally stable so they don't degrade in the GC system. GC is a widely used technique across most industries: for quality control in the manufacture of many products from cars to chemicals to pharmaceuticals; for research purposes from the analysis of meteorites to natural products; and for safety from environmental to food to forensics. Gas chromatographs are frequently hyphenated to mass spectrometers (GC-MS) to enable the identification of the chemical components._ _As the name implies, Gas Chromatography (GC) uses a carrier gas in the separation, this plays the part of the mobile phase. The carrier gas transports the sample molecules through the GC system, ideally without reacting to the sample or damaging the instrument components...'_

Harry paused to take out his notepad and pen and examined the accompanying photos and diagrams on how the machine worked and added to or subtracted bits and pieces to his own sketches. Hermione looked up from her own reading and watched silently as her best friend began laying out some new designs (she thought it was super cute that as he worked, his tongue peeked out from his lips.)

* * *

"Harry?" Harry looked up at the sound of his name being called and idly wondered why his stomach was rumbling. He spotted Hermione looking at him curiously.

"Wha, what's wrong, Hermione?"

"Lunch is over and you've not eaten anything. I made you a sandwich to take with you. What was so important that you forgot to eat?"

Harry looked down at his notes and sketches, "Well, Mr. Cody sent me an article on gas chromatography and I guess it just sparked my creativity. It's fascinating stuff being able to discover what compounds are in an unknown sample of liquid. Imagine what this could do for the magical world if you have someone like Mr. Cody who can't use magic but wants to work within the medical field?"

"Is there already a magical way to separate a potion into its base parts?"

"Hmm-mmm, it's called ' _Scarpin's Revelaspell'_ and it's a charm used to identify the ingredients in a given potion."

"So it requires a wand to make it work and since Mr. Cody is a Squib, that wouldn't be of any use to him," she answered to herself as she picked up her book bag, "So what's the problem?"

"Well, for one thing; the GC-MS units are currently too large to be moved around. They're designed to be permanently installed in a laboratory. My idea is to see if it can be compressed down to something that could sit on a table and take up no more room than a shoebox." Harry replied as he took a quick bite of the sandwich she'd made for him, "Mmm, thank you. This is good."

Hermione smiled happily briefly then beetled her eyebrows in contemplation as she slowly bobbed her head in thought and followed him out of the Hall.

* * *

The next day, Harry sought out Professor Snape to see if he'd be interested in assisting with the GC-MS project. He knocked on the professor's office door and was bid to enter. Severus looked up to see who dared to enter and was pleasantly surprised to see Harry walk through (he was also surprised at himself for _being_ pleasantly surprised.)

"Mr. Potter? What brings you by?"

Harry held out the magazine and said, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to help with an experiment proposed by my fifth year primary teacher Mr. Robert Cody and myself. There's an article in there about a technique known as 'gas chromatography' which is the mundane equivalent of Scarpin's Revelaspell. What we're proposing is coming up with a version that is no bigger than a shoebox and made to operate within a heavy magical environment like Hogwarts or Saint Mungo's."

Severus flipped through the article and was highly impressed at the level of detail that the article went into as well as the topic itself. _'Who knew that muggles, er mundanes could come up with stuff like this?'_ "If something like this already exists, what's the point of making it again? Who would it benefit?"

Harry shifted a bit, "I think it would help Squibs who want to work within the hospital or a high-end potions laboratory. The Scarpin's Revelaspell requires a wand and without one, a Squib is usually relegated to menial tasks."

Severus nodded and shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgment, "True, but most Squibs end up moving to the mundane world anyway, so again; what's the point?"

Harry pondered that before shrugging, "What if they didn't _have_ to? Anyway, if you would just think about it? I'm going to continue working on the solution but I would always appreciate your input. If you want, you can make a copy of the magazine," Severus did so; Harry thanked the professor and left his office.

* * *

Back in his dorm room, Harry dug out a kit bag that contained a myriad of electronic components and a soldering kit. The kit had been modified to work using ambient magical energy instead of electricity. It was a combined gift from both of his teachers and Uncle Vernon. Deciding to make a fun toy rather than anything serious, he sketched out a wiring schematic first. He sketched out a simple door alarm to be used with a siren, two AA batteries and a binder clip. He paused once the sketch was done and thought for a moment about how magic and batteries interacted. According to what he remembered, magic interferes with electricity, the more complex the circuit; the faster the interference. He glanced over his sketch again and wondered if he could mount the unit within a box stamped with a null-space rune to protect it.

' _Nah, I just need a simple project and if it lasts for at least a couple of days, I'm happy.'_

"Ok, let's see. Hot glue the batteries onto the levers facing in opposite directions to the handles of the alligator jaw binder clip. Take a micro speaker… where's my micro speak…here it is; hot glue the speaker to the side of the clip. Solder the red lead to the positive end of the top battery. Drill a small hole in both jaws of the clip, drive in a small Phillip's head screw into both jaws with the threaded…tail sticking out the back. Insert a piece of paper to keep the contacts from triggering the speaker. Solder the black speaker lead to the top screw tail. Okay… next, solder the negative pole to the other positive pole of the two batteries so they're now in series. Solder the bottom battery negative pole to the remaining screw tail…." He squeezed the clip which opened the jaws and let the paper insert fall out. By letting it close again, a high-pitched scream emitted from the speaker.

An evil grin formed on his face.

* * *

Hermione entered his room accompanied by a nervous Neville who had taken a look at what Harry was doing then went in search of her to explain what Harry was doing. She quietly peered over his shoulder as he made a couple more of some ultra-simple battery powered alarms.

"Hermione."

"Harry," she whispered, "Neville has been and now I am, worried about you. You've been holed up in your room for the past hour doing 'evil mad scientist' stuff and not explaining anything."

Harry shrugged, "I just felt like making a few pranks that could be set up in a matter of moments. It should be good for a few laughs."

She lightly patted him on his back and headed outside pulling a still confused Neville by the hand.

* * *

**Late evening, the Fat Lady portrait guardian to Gryffindor House**

_WHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_ The high pitched noise could probably be heard in the farthest reaches of the Earth. The portraits were running for cover or holding their ears, the Fat Lady had abandoned her post for a quieter location. The members of the red and gold were milling around, some of the prefects casting silencing or deafening charms to protect everyone's hearing. Minerva and Albus came practically running up to the landing. Standing there with the classic 'deer in headlights' look on their faces were the Weasley Twins.

"MESSERS WEASLEY! WILL YOU CUT OFF THIS INFERNAL RACKET?" Minerva yelled over the noise.

The two boys could only throw their hands out wide as they didn't know what caused it let alone know where it was coming from.

Albus began casting around but couldn't find anything; a most perplexed look on his face. Minerva transformed into her cat form to see if whatever it was could be seen at that height. She spotted what appeared to be a slip of parchment lying on the floor. Investigating around that spot, she discovered the source of the noise. It took a bit of experimentation but when she squeezed the handles together, she split the connection and ended the wailing noise.

Blinking at the sudden silence and rubbing their sore ears, the twins moved forward to see what the device was, "Blimey, what is that?"

Albus also examined it, "More importantly, why was it installed here of all places?"

Minerva bent back down and picked up the slip of parchment and placed it between the jaws of the clip and stopped squeezing the handles. She tensed up in case the wailing started again but she was relieved when it didn't. "Ah dinna ken wha' it is abou' but be assured ah'll be finding oot!" She took a deep breath and calmed herself which eased her accent, "In the meantime, Messers Weasleys, it is past curfew and you were caught trying to leave the common room. Care to explain yourselves?"

* * *

**Monday, Breakfast time, Great Hall**

Hermione was watching Harry intently, so much so that even the oblivious boy picked up on it. He looked back at his female friend and let loose with his signature lop-sided grin. She merely rolled her eyes and slightly shook her head in feigned exasperation. In reality, it was a cover to keep from blushing madly.

"You pranked the Twins last night, didn't you?" she asked without preamble.

Harry took a bite of his pancakes and grinned around them, "What makes you ask that?" he asked after swallowing.

Hermione cocked her head to the side knowingly and gave him a hard stare which caused the boy to crumble immediately, "Easy, Hermione! Put those guns away. Wow! Okay, fine. I'll admit it; I set the trap at the portrait. I wasn't targeting the twins specifically but it just worked out for the best. I'm still surprised that it worked for so long. I would've thought the ambient magic would've burnt out the batteries long before then."

Neville leant over, "That really was impressive, Harry. Scary too! I thought Professor McGonagall was going to explode." Harry chuckled around another bite of his pancakes.

"As long as no one here tells on me, it's the perfect trap."

* * *

When Harry got into his transfiguration class, he spotted the severe look that Professor McGonagall was giving everyone. She started the class off by informing them all that last night's prank was potentially harmful because it could've caused hearing damage. Harry spotted the verbal trap almost immediately and kept his mouth shut. Hermione glanced over at him to see what his response was but he clammed up, shook his head and refused to say anything.

The class topic was changing feathers into hand fans. Harry thought he'd be funny by simply holding a bunch of feathers together. Minerva glared at him so he dropped the act and pulled out his wand. He cast the spell, _'Mutare pluma ut manus ventilatrum arcu.'_ The feather expanded until it took the form of an arch-ish shaped feathery hand fan. Nodding her acceptance of his accomplishment, Professor McGonagall congratulated him on a successful transformation.

"See me after class, Mr. Potter."

* * *

Class ended and Harry trudged up to the professor's desk with a worried look on his face. Minerva sat heavily and removed her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose. She stared at him silently for a long moment.

"That was an ingenious prank you pulled on my House, Mr. Potter."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, professor," he started but she held up her hand to stop him.

"I know it was you who set that trap. Albus and I examined it later and we discovered your magical signature." Harry's eyes widened a bit and he started stammering.

"Buh, but…I never, I didn't…"

Minerva's mouth quirked up in the corners, "That piece of parchment you used to keep the jaws from touching had a trace of your magical signature on it. Care to explain why you felt the need to target the Gryffindors?"

Harry sat heavily and sighed in defeat, "I was bored really. I wanted to make something funny and stupid me decided that a loud siren was the way to go. I remembered reading how the more complex a mundane device is, the faster it will burn out in a magic rich environment so I built the alarm to be as simple as possible."

"So this wasn't in retaliation for anything the Weasley Twins may have done?" Harry shook his head no. "Very well, I won't take any points off from you; just don't do this again. Just out of curiosity, how long does the power last?"

Harry shrugged, "Until the alarm is tripped and the batteries remain undisturbed, they'll last for several months. Why?"

She waved him off, "No reason. You're dismissed."

As he left, she pulled the clip out of her desk drawer and held it up for a closer inspection, "This might be useful for protecting that damned Stone. Set this up in my protection zone and let's see if the thief can play the game with a splitting headache."

* * *

Over the next couple of weeks, Harry tread lightly around the denizens of Gryffindor House lest they figure out it was he that installed that door alarm. He especially didn't want the Weasley Twins finding out. Who knew what they'd do in retaliation! His 'competition' with Hermione had paid off. He managed to get the top score for the week so the two of them played some quiet indoor games, worked on a couple of puzzles and explored the castle. It was nearing the last week of October that things took a turn for the weird; Hermione had stopped talking to him. She was moody and withdrawn. Every time he tried to initiate a hug, which was usually the best way to get her to open up, she'd give him her now patent pending 'Hermione Granger Glare of Painful Death.'

He stopped in to see Professor Sprout the day before Halloween to see if the older woman could shed some light on the subject. Pomona's response was to pat him on the shoulder while smiling understandingly, "It's not your fault, Mr. Potter. Miss Granger is just going through a phase. It's something that all girls go through once a month. Trust me, I think that she'll be back to normal in a week."

* * *

**Halloween**

Today was NOT one of Harry's favorite days. In times past, he and his aunt would sit down and hold a memorial for his parents after their senseless murders at the hands of that evil bastard, Voldemort. This year was going to be extra special since it was the tenth anniversary. Ten years and Harry would start tearing up about all the things he'd missed out on because of that evil arse! Harry's mood kind of matched Hermione's in such that he was moody and withdrawn. In some quiet part of his mind, he reasoned that he was fortunate to have been sorted into Hufflepuff. The other Puffs were aware of what this day meant for him and therefore either left him alone or offered a comforting shoulder to cry on; he would just smile weakly before shuffling off to be by himself. He shuddered to think what things would've been like if he'd gotten sorted into the maelstrom of chaos that was Gryffindor House! He'd never get a moment of peace.

* * *

**Headmaster's Office**

Albus was looking through his wardrobe to find a particular set of robes that would be best shown during the holiday feast and festivities. _'Something in orange and black, I suspect. Maybe with the glowing pumpkins and fluttering bats… yes, that's the ticket! The feast tonight should be extra special. The elves informed me earlier that they were pulling out all the stops tonight. I need to remember to make attendance mandatory.'_ He finished dressing and wrote out a note to be passed around to the senior staff reminding them to let their students know that the Halloween Feast was compulsory.

A note reappeared a few moments later from Pomona stating that there would be a couple of no-shows. Frowning, he got up and activated the internal floo network to call her office.

"Pomona? Ah, there you are. I believe I said that attendance to the Feast is mandatory. Why are some not going to be there?" he admonished her.

Pomona quirked an eyebrow, "If you _really_ want to know; three girls have started their monthlies, two children are feeling queasy after their last potions class and Mr. Potter requested not to attend given what this day means to him."

Albus turned a bit green at the mention of the female hygiene problems then grew rather angry at Harry's request, "I disagree with young Harry's desire to be alone tonight. His attendance is mandatory and I won't hear another word against my wishes. Make sure he's there, Pomona." He then shut off the connection and the fire died down. Pomona sat there wide-eyed and mouth gaping at the callousness her boss just showed regarding Harry's feelings and slowly shook her head.

"No. No, Albus. I will _not_ be acquiescing to your ridiculous demands on this one. The boy has suffered enough without having to put up with that gaudy nightmare you call a holiday!"

* * *

**Halloween Feast, Great Hall**

Albus had just finished a waffling speech about the history of Halloween and how the old ways were best left in the past. In truth, he just rambled on about how the old ways and traditions had no place in a modern world and the students just lapped it up. Of course, it wasn't like they had a choice; they were his captive audience for nine months of the year and with only one news source and limited options for communication with the outside world, he could have told everyone that the sky was purple and they'd have no choice but to believe him. It also helped that he had been at the school in one post or another for close to three generations. Except for those suspicious bastards in Slytherin House (and he was working on them), Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was pretty much a god to the student and staff population. In his mind, it was for the Greater Good that they put all their trust and security in his capable hands; that's why he never did anything to deal with that supposed curse on the DADA professorship nor the exorcism of Professor Binns. The money that would've gone into the ghost professor's account had been secretly rerouted into his. After all, what does a ghost need with money? Better to put it the luxuries he'd grown accustomed to in his golden years. Albus glanced down at his current ensemble, one of many robes and outfits paid for with the ill-gotten funds. After that inane speech, he sat down and began building his meal. A quick glance at the assembled students, he was keenly aware that a few were indeed missing. A quiet 'burp' at the thought of those female issues nearly put him off eating the mashed potatoes but he succeeded in redirecting those troubling thoughts. He gazed over to Hufflepuff House where young Harry Potter was supposed to be. He frowned when he didn't spot the boy immediately; he leant forward and back, thinking that perhaps the boy was sitting in a different spot than normal but no… Harry Potter was _not_ at the feast.

He turned to the Head of Hufflepuff, "Pomona? Did you not inform Mr. Potter of his required attendance to the feast?"

Pomona primly kept cutting her meat, "I told him."

' _What kind of answer is that?'_ "And? What was his response? Why is he not here?"

Pomona huffed and heavily thunked her fork and knife onto the table, turned and glared at the headmaster, "Because I felt it was _more important_ that he spend the evening in quiet vigil memory than to stuff his face with all this endless sugar and gaudy decorations. You are making a mockery out of what this evening means to the boy, Albus and I won't stand for it. _Leave him alone!"_ She loudly hissed that last demand.

The doors burst open at that moment and Quirrell came running in, screaming his turbaned head off about a 'Troll in the dungeons!' then he fainted… The kids screamed and started bolting for the doors. Albus stood and yelled for silence then directed the prefects to take their charges back to their common rooms. The senior staff's eyes widened in alarm at the headmaster's proclamation. The troll had been reported to be _in_ the dungeons!

A cannon blast was issued which caused everyone to stop and look back to the teachers' table. Minerva was seen silently arguing with the headmaster. In the meantime, Filius stood on his chair and announced, "Everyone is to go back to your seats and _stay there!_ Prefects, run a head check. Anyone missing, let one of us teachers know immediately!"

The head counts were performed, a couple of elves were called upon to check on the status of those known to be absent. They reported back that the ones who were sick were in their beds or in the infirmary. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were the only two who weren't in their rooms or Houses.

Pomona paled, "Where are they?"

"Young miss is being having bathroom issues and young sir went to go sit with her. The troll tried to get into the bathroom but was stopped and repelled by young sir with loud wailing device. The troll is now heading back to the dungeons," the elf squeaked.

* * *

**Pomona's Office, Hufflepuff House**

Both Harry and Hermione were shaking in fear, shivering from being soaked in water after the troll had demolished the stalls and sinks. Both had minor cuts and scrapes along with Hermione's other…problem. Pomona, Minerva and Severus came rushing in to gather them up and ushered them all into the Puff Common Room. Filius had stayed in the Great Hall to supervise while Albus went down to the dungeons to oversee the capture of the troll. Quirrell had disappeared…

"Are you two okay?" Minerva asked the pair of kids.

Harry grimaced, "My ears still hurt and everything is ringing pretty loudly."

Hermione blushed, "I'm still… you know."

Pomona directed Hermione to her personal bathroom, "Take your time. I'll have Madam Pomfrey stop in later." She then turned back to Harry, "What about you? Need anything besides the obvious?" He shook his head and tried yawning to clear his ears.

Poppy Pomfrey arrived a few moments later and was directed to the bathroom.

"Mr. Potter, the elves reported that you used something that screamed to redirect the troll. What did you use?"

Harry grunted and pulled out another clip, "Part of the screaming was from Hermione. She's got a heck of a set of lungs on her. The other part was this; I created it back in the beginning of this month to prank the Gryffindors. It's a simple electronic circuit that emits a high-frequency noise from the speaker whenever the metal contacts are closed. It'll keep going until either the clip is destroyed or the power from the batteries runs out."

Everyone except for Minerva (who already knew of its existence) was impressed. Poppy had just finished with Hermione and was now checking Harry over. She gave him a potion to soothe the ringing in his ears and another one for his headache.

"Um…Professor?" All of them turned towards Harry who gaped for a moment, "Sprout, am I going to be in trouble for not attending the feast? I heard it was mandatory."

Pomona patted him on the arm, "Don't worry about it, I explained your reasoning to the headmaster."

* * *

_**Near where the Troll got into the castle…** _

Albus was pissed for a number of reasons and this problem with the troll was not relieving his frustration. ' _The brat should've been there in the Great Hall! How dare Pomona for allowing him to do otherwise and against his direct orders! Damn Quirrell for being so incompetent! Damn the Dursleys for not following those compulsions he'd placed on their house! Damn everyone! The brat needed to be at the feast so he could see that the gaiety of the event was what the masses needed to not look too closely at the past. So what if his parents died? It was for the Greater Good. So what if his life was the menial drudgery it was from living with those dirty muggles? It was for the Greater Good. Nothing else mattered! Ten years ago, he had put plans into motion and now they had been shot to Hell just because Petunia and that walrus of a husband of hers failed to stamp out the independent thinking and self-confidence the boy had. He's too charismatic and popular, not unlike Tom was when he was that age. I'm now going to work twice as hard to make sure that they brat is properly tested to follow my guidance towards his inevitable Destiny._


	4. An Error In The Programming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Albus really doesn't like it when things do go according to his script, does he? I got news for you; it's only just the beginning. Many eternal thanks to LeQuin for helping me muddle through this chapter. I don't like writing character development very much and especially dislike writing angst. I'd rather gloss over it and get to the action or describing some funny scene but it does need to be done. I won't go super heavy right out of the gates with it in this chapter but I will have Albus planting the seeds.

**Chapter 4: An Error in the Programming**

**Friday 1 November 1991**

**Headmaster's Office**

Albus sat on his throne behind his desk idly sucking on a lemon drop. The events of last night still percolating in his mind: The wild mountain troll getting into the castle (he had rented the one in the gauntlet on the third floor from a friend of a friend of his), the senior staff ignoring or countermanding his orders. On top of that were the near-insubordination from Pomona and the intransigence from young Harry. He pushed the drop around in his mouth as he pondered what his next step should be. The boy needed to be tested and soon. He was too charismatic for his own good…or rather the Greater Good. The boy needed to be cowed so as to be told what to do and not question every step. His original plan was to test the boy's planning, daring and ability to follow clues that Albus would leave for him to find. Now however, Albus was certain that he'd have to try an alternative method to manipulate what information the boy was allowed to have to make him question what he believes is the truth of those who profess they love him or are just out to get him for his name and family fortune.

' _I think the tests on the third floor will have to be put aside for now and the Stone can be safely put elsewhere for the time being. I should invite Mr. Potter to my office so he and I can have a little…chat and perhaps a little look-see into his memories. I need to know what kinds of damage the Dursleys have done to make the boy not trust me. '_

* * *

**Hufflepuff Table, Great Hall**

Harry was just about to start eating his breakfast when a rolled note appeared on the table at the same time Hedwig landed in front of him, a package tied to her leg. He smiled warmly at her, "Morning, Hed. Whatcha got there?"

**[A package from your teacher back in Surrey. He's nice and gave me a whole mouse when I arrived.]**

Hermione turned a bit green as she overheard what the owl was hooting while reading the paper. Harry noticed and cocked his head in curiosity. She translated what Hedwig said as she pushed her bowl of porridge away. Hedwig took Harry's offering of a sausage link in her beak before taking flight.

"What's wrong?"

"It was just the mention of the mouse. I know it's a natural thing but still…" He nodded and patted her on the shoulder.

Harry untied the package and a note fell out.

' _Dear Harry,_

_Enclosed in this letter is the M/Wifi card that we were working on before you left for Hogwarts; I've already proofed it in the test bed and it seems to work just fine. I would recommend that you breadboard it before plugging it into the PA just to make sure. The ambient magical energy around here is a lot lower than Hogwarts.'_

_Sincerely,_

_Robert_

Harry opened up the box the Wifi card came in. It was just slighter larger than a matchbox and as thick as a credit card. There was an instruction slip attached with a rubber band. Neville peered over his shoulder.

"What's that?"

Harry glanced back, "The rubber band or what's in the box?"

Neville snorted lightly, "What's in the box, you dork. I know what a rubber band is."

Harry smirked in jest, "I can never tell with you magically-raised, you know. So sheltered and isolated from those new-fangled modern advancements and all." Neville shoved him on the shoulder while rolling his eyes. "It's a module to connect my PA to the rest of the world. It uses a method known as 'Wifi.'"

"And that is what?"

"Wifi is a wireless networking technology that allows devices such as computers both as laptops and as desktops, and other equipment like printers and video cameras to interface with the Internet."

Neville gave a long, slow nod, "Oookay… Now what is the internet?"

Harry frowned in thought, trying to come up with an analogy that his friend could understand, "Okay, you know the Floo Network? How it connects every fireplace in every home and business to each other and others throughout the world?" Neville hummed his agreement, "Well, the internet is like that. It connects all those computers to others around the world as long as those others have those wifi cards attached in some way."

"So will that work within Hogwarts?"

"It should. I'll test it when I get back to our dorm. It'll be great to have another means of communication that doesn't rely on owls or fireplaces. Owls are slow and not every location can have a fireplace but with a mobile computer like the PA or a laptop, you have so many more options."

"How far away can two people be?"

"I can send an electronic letter known as 'email' from here in Scotland to anyone in Australia nearly instantaneously."

Neville's mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged out as he tried to comprehend that.

* * *

Remembering that he had a second note waiting for him, Harry unfurled it and read the quick message. A compulsion charm activated and 'suggested' that he follow the instructions post haste.

"Hmm… I must be going. I'm going to be late for a meeting," he said in a slightly odd voice. Hermione hummed her acknowledgement as she continued to read the morning paper while Neville's eyes narrowed a bit as he tracked his friend's hasty exit from the Hall.

Neville slid closer to Hermione, "I think something might be wrong with Harry."

Hermione glanced up worriedly, "What do you mean?"

"I mean his voice and the way he practically ran out the door. That's not how Harry usually behaves."

"Maybe it was a bathroom problem?"

Neville just shook his head and got up to find Professor Sprout to let her know his suspicions.

"Professor?"

Pomona glanced up from her perusal of the morning paper and a bowl of sliced fruit, "Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville hesitated for the briefest moment before soldiering on, "I think there might something wrong with Harry. He, uh, he got a letter from someone and after he read it, his voice went distant and strangely formal." His eyes slid over towards the headmaster's location.

Pomona's eyes narrowed as she looked towards where Albus was just now getting up out of his chair with an indecipherable look of triumph on his face, "Mr. Longbottom? Please go find Mr. Potter and tell him that his meeting was changed to the Infirmary. Drag him there if you have to but don't let him go to his original destination. I'll be along in a minute."

* * *

When Neville caught up to Harry, the mop-haired boy was muttering about how he was, "going to be late for his meeting with the…" the rest was an unintelligible slurring.

"Harry! I'm glad I found you. The meeting place was changed; it's now in the Infirmary. Come on, you need to follow me." He started tugging on Harry's arm.

Harry looked at Neville with heavily-lidded eyes and shook his head as if drunk, "Nah noo… Meeting with the heashmashter. Hesh going to put things right…"

Neville chewed on his lower lip before finally taking action, an action he _hoped_ Harry would forgive him for. His balled-up fist thunked heavily in Harry's face and the boy dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Neville shifted uncertainly, daring to hope that no one spotted what he'd just done before grabbing Harry by his ankles and dragging him towards the hospital.

"Sorry, Harry," he grunted.

* * *

**Infirmary Wing**

The first thing out of Poppy Pomfrey's mouth wasn't her usual opening line of 'What seems to be the problem here?' Nope, because at the sight of a very sweaty and puffing Neville Longbottom dragging in an unconscious Harry Potter by his ankles; her first words were, "What the bloody hell happened here?!"

Neville dropped Harry's ankles and flopped down in an empty chair, "Whew! He's heavier than he looks." He then told the nurse what he'd told Professor Sprout and then what she'd said to him. Just as he was finishing, Pomona hurried into the room.

"Pom, er… Professor Sprout?"

"Ah, thank you Mr. Longbottom." She turned to Poppy, "I retrieved Mr. Potter's book bag where he'd had dropped it and kicked it over into an alcove. I examined his belongings for whatever it was that could've caused Mr. Potter's behavior and I found the note. It was written in the headmaster's handwriting and had a rather strong compulsion charm attached to it." She handed over the note to Poppy who confirmed the charm and growled quietly.

"Okay, let's get Mr. Potter into a bed shall we?" She cast a levitation charm and magically lifted the boy into one of the open beds then cast a compulsion cancellation spell and a healing charm on the boy's nose. "Was that your work, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville looked panicked, "Am I going to get into trouble for that?"

Pomona waved him back into his seat, "I told you to get him here by any means necessary didn't I?" Neville visibly relaxed back into his chair.

* * *

Harry awoke a few minutes later and groaned, "Wha, what happened to me? Why do I feel like I got hit by a lorry?" It was Neville's timid voice that answered him.

"That's because I punched you in the face, Harry."

Harry stared bleary-eyed Neville for several silent moments before sighing, "I hope it was worth it?"

Neville's eyes grew wide and his face paled, "I'm sorry, Harry! There was no other way to get you here! Please don't be mad at me!" he kept babbling his apologies.

Harry waved him down, "I meant the reason for hitting me. Was whatever I did worth hitting me for? Was I attacking someone else? Was I in some sort of battle?" Neville slowly shook his head and Harry's eyes grew wide as well as he blushed, "Was I doing something embarrassing?" he whispered the last.

"Um, Professor Sprout told me to get you here by any means necessary and when you didn't follow me, I uh, decked you then dragged you here by your ankles."

Harry snorted at the incongruous thought of mild-mannered Neville Longbottom decking and dragging him here like something out of the movies.

"Okay, I'm not mad at you nor am I laughing at you. I'm laughing at the mental image I have of you dragging me through half the castle and nonchalantly standing by whenever someone walked past saying, "Oh, Harry is just counting the ceiling tiles. It's a punishment from Professor Snape."

Both boys burst out laughing.

* * *

**Potions class**

Harry was eventually released from the hospital, Neville at his side. Professor Sprout had said she would take care of whatever the meeting Harry was supposed to be going to and to not worry about it. That she said all that with an angry and frankly scary glint in her eye made sure that both boys didn't question her on it.

He sauntered along the hallway to the potions laboratory without a care in the world, Neville nervously reading his textbook as he hurried alongside his friend. It was a beautiful day and… _'Wait, why am I walking like this? Since when do I saunter?'_ He paused at the doorway and glanced around the hallway with a seriously puzzled expression on his face.

"Got a problem, Scarhead?" drawled a nasally voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

"Draco, what do you want?" he groaned quietly in annoyance.

Draco leant up against the wall with an exaggerated nonchalance and bit into an apple, "Nothing from you, that's for sure. I don't need any of your muggle filth polluting my belongings."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I meant what you want with me right now? Potions don't start for another fifteen minutes. Shouldn't you be hanging out with your two pet gorillas?" That had surprised Harry when he arrived; Crabbe and Goyle were usually shadowing Draco.

Draco stood up glaring at Harry, "I'll stand wherever I damn well please, Potter. I don't need some filthy muggle-lover like you telling me what to do!"

Harry harrumphed, "Your last potion would suggest otherwise; you clearly weren't following the instructions. I don't know what you were attempting but that sludge was definitely _not_ a remedy for hair loss."

Draco advanced on him menacingly, "What would you know about brewing potions, Scarhead? I've never even _seen_ you pick up a stirring spoon. All you've ever done in class is play with that glass toy of yours."

Harry shrugged with indifference, "It doesn't matter what I've done. All that matters is that you're a lousy brewer and I hope to the heavens that you don't have to administer it to anyone lest they be poisoned."

Draco was just about to snap in with his usual line of 'When my Father hears about this' when Professor Snape opened his door and ordered everyone inside.

* * *

Since that first class, Professor Snape had been singularly impressed with Harry's talents in potioneering. He had held Harry back to test the boy on at least two occasions to see just how skilled he was with a cauldron and not just because of some electronic toy. In a rare display of emotion, Severus actually smiled as he compared Harry's talent to that of his mother. That led to a longer conversation afterwards about what she was like in school. Harry had explained that his Aunt Petunia was able to tell him stories from before his mother went to Hogwarts but they sort of drifted apart.

Severus stared at him perplexed, "Petunia? As in Petunia Evans?"

Harry shrugged, "She's married now. She's Petunia Dursley. Why?"

Severus shivered, "The Petunia Evans I remember was a screechy shrew who bitterly complained all the time how the magical world was going to be the death of her sister. She was right…" he finished morosely.

Harry was surprised, "I don't know what changed but she's been pretty good to me. She raised me to be a brother to my cousin Dudley and she's a lot of fun. This past August, we had our last annual water war!"

"Water war?"

"Uh-huh," Harry sighed happily in memory, "One long, awesome day of squirt guns, water bombs and chasing each other around the yard in our swim shorts. Uncle Vernon would always set up the inflatable pool to refill our squirt guns or to splash around if it got too hot. Aunt Petunia would camp herself in the enclosed patio and occasionally toss a water balloon at us or act as a judge for whatever battle we were having. At lunch time, it depended on Aunt Petunia's mood but she usually just ordered a couple of pizzas and let Dudley and I just camp out on the lawn."

"Why…would they let you do that?"

"It's our family's last day of summer childish fun before we had to go back to school." Harry replied with a big grin on his face.

Severus blinked and shook his head, "Amazing, I never would've figured her to learn how to relax. She was always stealing our textbooks and notes. I don't know why she would bother; it wasn't like she'd be able to become a witch just by reading."

Harry shrugged, "Maybe she just wanted to be able to understand what it was that you both were learning so she could be part of the conversation? She does that all the time with Uncle Vernon's drill manuals. They're dry and boring but she will drag herself to read all of it so she can ask questions later. Uncle Vernon's had a few clients over and I've heard them say later that they were impressed that his wife was as knowledgeable as he is."

Severus pondered this, "I think I may have underestimated her. I wonder if I should reach out and apologize to her?"

* * *

Professor Snape announced that they were going to be getting into sleeping draughts. _'Well, the rest of the class is going to be doing sleeping draughts. He's hinted that I would be doing something different.'_ Harry mused as he pulled out his PA and powered it on.

Sure enough, while everyone else was busily getting set up for making a basic sleeping draught; Severus approached Harry with a roll of parchment in his hands.

"Mr. Potter, I have a question for you. Would you be willing to run this potion through the PA and see if it works? It's a modification of the Wolfsbane Potion but I don't have enough of the critical ingredients to experiment with." He held out the parchment roll.

Harry took it and unfurled it, his eyes widening and he sharply looked up at his professor, "This is…wow! Talk about complex, what specifically do you want? Do you just want to know if the recipe holds true? If there are any cheaper or more easily obtained ingredients or do you want to know if there's a mundane alternative that is available?"

Severus pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow in thought, "What about all those options? How long would it take you?"

Harry smirked and held up a finger. He clicked on and loaded the Potions Lab program then scanned the recipe that Severus had given him along with the instructions. He clicked on the Test Potion button. Severus was staring in shock at how fast it was all going. The formulations were scrolling too fast for him to read.

"That…" he sighed deeply and rolled his eyes, "I'm going to observe the others. Let me know when you're done." He stalked off to the other kids, Neville especially since he was in greatest need of attention.

* * *

It took a grand total of twenty minutes for Harry to get the information that Severus needed. The potion ingredients were compatible with each other, they could be found cheaper through mundane producers and there was a mundane alternative to the potion as well.

"If you want, I can have this printed out and sent to you," Harry replied a touch smugly.

Severus sat heavily in his chair when he learned this. His face was pale and his breathing raspy, "I, I…"

Harry heard a couple of childish giggles behind him and someone say, "I think you broke him, Harry."

He tapped Severus on the arm which caused the man to snort and shake his head, "S, sorry, Mr. Potter. You shocked me pretty good there. You said that there's a mundane alternative to Wolfsbane?"

Harry acknowledged him, "Yes, sir. It's called 'Primaquine' and is available through a doctor's prescription. It's used to treat malaria and according to this data, lycanthropy is a magical equivalent to malaria in that it requires an injection of fluids from the infected host directly into the bloodstream of the victim."

"So how does this Primaquine work?"

Harry clicked on the Library icon and searched for the relevant information. Severus moved around the table to look over Harry's shoulder. When it came up, he read it directly from the screen, "Primaquine is used after other medications (such as chloroquine) have killed the malaria parasites living inside red blood cells. Primaquine then kills the malaria parasites living in other body tissues. This prevents the return of the infection. Both drugs are needed for a complete cure."

Severus blinked several times, "You mean to tell me that malaria can be _cured?"_

Harry shrugged, "According to this, yes."

"And you said that lycanthropy is the magical equivalent; does that mean that these two drugs could potentially cure lycanthropy?" Again Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"I have no idea, professor. I've never had a need to work with these two medications. The most complex potion I've done outside of this classroom was Skele-grow."

Severus waved his hand, "Okay, fair enough. Do you have a way to test a sample of werewolf blood with this primaquine medicine?"

Harry again read from the description box, "Metabolomic studies have been applied to disease biomarkers selection. With the metabolomic technique, gas chromatography/mass spectrometry (GC/MS), human serum metabolites can be detected and identified."

Severus just stared blankly at Harry, "What does that mean in English?"

Harry pursed his lips and stared back at Severus, "It means it would require usage of a machine that you said would've been a waste of time a month ago."

Severus thought for a moment before his eyes widened, "You mean that gas chroma…whatever?"

Harry smirked, "Gas Chromatography – Mass Spectrograph or GC-MS and yes."

"Well, seeing as how you don't actually have the unit; how would we go about running a sample?"

Harry shrugged, "Send it to a lab, I guess. I've never had to do that before."

Severus stared off into space for a moment before sighing in resigned acceptance, "I'll look into it."

Harry turned back to the PA and noticed another tab regarding lycanthropy, "Huh. It seems that lycanthropy is known to mundanes as well."

Severus grew puzzled, "Let me see that." He held out his hand. There on the screen was a listing for something called 'Clinical Lycanthropy' and the symptoms were near identical for that of the magical variant: Rage, animalistic tendencies, the delusion that the victim can transform and more, "This is incredible. I would guess that the mundanes who have this are unable to change but I need to research this in greater detail." He took note of the hospital and doctors who did the research.

* * *

_**Later that evening…** _

Neville was laying on his bed reading a magazine, Hermione was off playing football with Dean Thomas and Justin Finch-Fletchley while Harry was busy installing the M/Wifi card into his PA after first testing it on his breadboard. The test results came back positive for clean and clear operation so he pressed the power disconnect rune which would isolate the array that ran the device, unscrewed the back plate to the PA and clipped the black and white antenna leads to their corresponding spots on the card then slid the card into the socket. Once that was done, he sealed it back up and reconnected the power array and powered the PA back on. The boot-up screen scrolled up faster than he could read it until it stopped and asked him if he wanted to install the driver program which he entered in 'yes.'

Finally it was all done. There was a new icon for the internet in the form of the world and a spider web laid over it. He clicked on the icon and was presented with a graphical representation of a computer and a name and address contact book. Harry entered in the information for Uncle Vernon's personal email as well as Mr. Cody's. He sent a message to Mr. Cody with Uncle Vernon getting a CC'd email telling them both that the new M/Wifi card was installed and seemed to be working fine then described who and what was going on in his dorm room and what sort of homework he still had to complete before signing it and sending it off.

They both replied about an hour later congratulating him on getting the connection to work as well as admonishing him to worry about his homework first and not to get distracted by his device. Petunia had tacked onto Vernon's message that she wished him well and if he could take a few pictures of the place with him and his friends in the shots and send them to her.

* * *

_**In Albus' office…** _

Albus was once again ruminating on the information that he'd gleaned from scanning young Harry's mind. It galled him that Pomona had actively tried to head off his attempt to get the boy into his office but he came through in the end. It took a bit of misdirection and a bit of sabotage in her beloved greenhouses by a helpful and naïve elf but he successfully got Harry into an abandoned classroom, stuck him to a chair and extracted a copy of the boy's memories into a vial then obliviated him of the event. Looking back, he was glad that he hadn't attempted Legilimency then and there as there hadn't been enough time. Pomona was apparently faster at dealing with emergencies than he normally gave her credit for. Now, as he poured the contents of the vial into his pensieve, he hoped to learn what he needed to correct for the error in his plans. The Stone would remain in his secret drawer while a letter he'd sent to Nicholas Flamel lamenting the destruction of the item lay on his desk ready to be sent out.

* * *

**Three days later, Monday 3 November 1991**

Harry was sitting at his desk in his dorm room trying to make sense of the information in the letter he'd received in that morning's mail delivery. Someone had sent him a couple of newspaper articles from the magical newspaper, the _Daily Prophet_ that spoke about Miss Honeybloom in less than flattering terms. It seemed that she had been found guilty of blatantly performing magic in front of muggles in a clear violation of the Statute of Secrecy and as a result, been banished from the magical world. The other article was about Mr. Cody and that he had been arrested and tried before the Wizengamot for intentionally harming several young boys (a couple were supposedly harmed sexually) before having his magic bound to that of a Squib and sent away to the muggle world.

He chewed on his lip in thought before shaking his head to dispel the idea that his two favorite teachers could possibly be so bad. "Well, it's a good thing I can contact them and find out their side of the story," he said aloud to the empty room. He logged into his email account and wrote up a short message to both his uncle and Mr. Cody then scanned and attached the articles,

_Dear Robert Cody,_

_CC: Uncle Vernon_

_This morning I received two newspaper articles from Magical Britain's '_ Daily Prophet' _regarding some alleged illegal events about you Mr. Cody and Miss Honeybloom. I personally don't believe it especially since it appeared so soon after my recent interactions with Albus Dumbledore. I recently had some bizarre talks with the headmaster and I suspect that he is trying to play me for a fool but I'm not sure as to why. He makes little comments about how great the magical world is (so far, it's great) and how wonderful it must be to have someone always looking out for me to protect me from the savagery of the muggle world (yeah, right.) I'll leave that up to you, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. I have homework and making friends to focus on! I think one of you should contact Miss Honeybloom and bring her up to speed with this too. Love you, Uncle Vernon (and Aunt Petunia if you're reading this) and thanks, Mr. Cody._

_Harry._

* * *

Since he was already done with his homework and he really didn't feel like starting a bit of chaos just for chaos' sake, Harry plopped down in an available sofa and watched the comings and goings of the other Puffs. He saw Tonks playing a game of cards with some other seventh years. It was apparent that she kept losing based on how rapidly her hair changed colors. He spotted Neville doing something creative with the potted flowers on one of the window sills and Hermione was busy holding court with the other first and second year magically-raised girls. It looked like she had another one of her funny quotes shirts on.

"Hey, Hermione!" She stopped talking and turned to glare at him for daring to interrupt, "What's your shirt say this time?" She glanced down, smirked and held it out for him to read, _'Irish you would go away.'_ Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled a bit.

Deciding that there was nothing else to be gained by just sitting there, growing ever more bored with each passing moment, he got up and headed out in the direction of the potions laboratory.

When he got there, the door was open so he walked in expecting to see the professor either at his desk or rummaging around his cabinets. Instead, the room was occupied by several elves (he'd been introduced to them last month when he asked how to get a late-night snack); the little beings were busy scrubbing the floors and walls of the accumulated gunk from who knew how long ago. One of the elves noticed him and squeaked in surprise which caused the others to stop what they were doing.

Harry pointedly looked everywhere other than them and replied cheekily, "Hmmm, I guess someone left the door open to the laboratory by mistake. It's a good thing that there's no one in here and if there was, they _must_ be invisible." He heard some nervous giggles coming from one of the elves, "Since this room is _clearly_ not ready for whatever, I'm just going to leave. I think I'll hang a sign on the door warning others that there are invisible people doing cleaning in here." More giggles followed by a whispered, "Thank you, young sir."

Before he left though, he looked directly into the elf's eyes, "One of these days, someone is going to have to explain to me why you don't like being seen when on the job. Bye for now!"

* * *

As he was heading back to his common room, he spotted Professor Snape walking towards him carrying a sheaf of papers and a cup of something steaming.

"Professor! Hi, I was hoping that you would be willing to let me experiment with a couple of advanced potions?"

Severus took a sip from his cup and shook his head, "I cannot let you in there. I've been told that the laboratory is in dire need of a good scrubbing, something that can't be accomplished by the usual detention assignments. What experiments did you have in mind?" He gestured with a finger of the hand holding his cup.

"I had an idea for a variation on Veritaserum for use on minors. The regular brew is too strong to use on them so I figured that a milder version was called for but instead of forcing them to tell the truth, it would just change them into an embarrassing color."

Severus snorted in amusement, "Clever. Well, I'll let you know when the elves are done cleaning." He turned to leave.

"Oh! Did you still want to learn how to send an email?"

Severus looked back, cocked his head then nodded with a small smile teasing the edges of his mouth, "Follow me." He led Harry to his office and gestured to an empty chair facing the desk while he settled into his own. Harry pulled out and powered up his PA then clicked on the email icon.

"Okay, so it's really simple. Do you know how to type?"

Severus shook his head, "No, but it shouldn't be that difficult to figure out the buttons."

"Right, so all you have to do is type out your message in this center field. There are helpful additions like making words in bold, italicized or underlined. To activate those, just tap and hold your finger over the word you want modified then choose which function you want." He demonstrated with a flurry of typing and quick editing, "See? Now, to send your letter; you need to know what their email address is. It's sort of like the Floo Network. Without a proper address, nothing happens. In this case, here's my uncle's email address. I'll add a short message explaining what we're doing before I show you how to send it."

"I'm curious; will this PA become available to the public anytime soon? I can hardly believe that you would have the only in existence especially if I would like to send an email to a correspondence at a later date."

"My primary five teacher Robert Cody, is working on coordinating with a computer manufacturer to get more of these made. As of right now, it looks like the first ones will be available by Christmas at the earliest."

"Do you know how much they will cost?"

"No, but I can find out. So to continue…"

* * *

At 6:30pm Hogwarts time, Potions Master Severus Tobias Snape became the first wizard (outside of Harry and his teachers) within Magical Britain to send an email. It was directed to Petunia Dursley nee Evans apologizing for his past behaviors towards her drive to learn magic by any means possible. He explained that while he didn't expect her to become friends, he would like to cease the hostilities for Harry's sake.

* * *

**Wednesday, 6 November 1991 Hallway to the Central Courtyard**

All through the day (and frankly the past two months), Harry'd been besieged with the annoyances from the behaviors of both Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy. Both brats, er…boys were in the midst of some sort of quasi, who-knew-why, thingamajiggy contest to see which one was really knew the 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' the best. If anyone were keeping score, Weasley was the one in the lead for the simple reason that Draco had yet to actually say anything positive about Harry. His commentary was so far limited to thinly veiled insults at his parentage and apparent lack in magical social skills.

' _That last part is true. I've not really made an effort to get to know the ins and outs of the magical society and all that it contains. Snort… why should I? I'm only eleven, for cripe's sake! That sort of thing should only start becoming interesting when I get old enough to be going to parties.'_

The latest bragging made by the 'Crimson Prat' was that at the twit's last birthday party, Harry supposedly brought miniature dragons for everyone to play with and got him a top of the line broom as a present. Then he loudly proclaimed that it was _such a shame_ that he couldn't bring said broom to school to show off to everyone the proof that Harry Potter was his best mate.

Dean Thomas nudged him on the shoulder as he ambled up from behind and jabbed his chin in Ron's direction, "I'm betting that none of that is true. You don't act like you have a clue as to what model broom he's been yakking about."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Nope but I've learned that it's nearly impossible to keep the idiots from talking when they don't want to. Before I came here, I was just an ordinary kid with astonishing powers going to primary school in Surrey." He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers all mystically.

Dean laughed out loud, "Yeah, same here! I was actually signed up for a West Ham Youth Football Program when my letter arrived along with Professor McGonagall to explain this brand new world I was being offered in September. Had I not accepted, I would've been spending all my free time plus the weekends training to land a spot in an inter-school football team."

Harry whistled appreciatively. He may not have been the fanatics of football like Dean and Hermione were but he could still understand what a big deal the offer had been, "So why didn't you take it?"

Dean grimaced, "Professor McGonagall had pointed out that if I didn't get a magical education then I would be a danger to everyone around me if I were to lose control because of emotional stress or something. Well, my mum and dad talked it over before sitting me down and explaining that the Youth Program was a good idea but learning to control this ability of mine took pres…presi, um…priority over football."

Harry shrugged, "But you'd have never been able to join the main team until you turned eighteen anyways, right?" Dean morosely nodded; Harry clapped him on the shoulder, "So you have seven years here learning how to control your magic while there's also plenty of room to practice your drills, especially now that you've learned that Hermione loves the game as much as you do."

Dean snorted and cocked his head over at his mop-haired friend with a lop-sided grin on his face, "I hadn't thought of that."

* * *

In the meantime, Harry was still faced with the problem of what to do with the two idiots. At breakfast, Hermione had made an idle comment that it would be hilarious if someone were to potion them into thinking that the other was Harry Potter so that they'd leave the real boy alone. Turning to stare at the bushy-haired girl, Harry felt his mouth drop open in mute shock.

"Hermione! You are a devious, brilliant girl! I love it." He loudly whispered to her before booting up the PA. When it finished its start-up routine, he saw that he had a couple of emails from Mr. Cody, Miss Honeybloom (hers had a happy face symbol in the message bar so he knew that it wasn't anything critical) and one from Aunt Petunia with her brand-new address. Deciding to put those until later, he brought up the Potions Lab application and began experimenting with a new brew to make the target think their object of interest was someone else. Harry got so involved with his electronic brewing that he never noticed the approaching presence of Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Ah! Harry, my boy. It's so good to see you out and about today. It would seem that your friend Mr. Weasley the youngest has had several good things to say about your friendship with him," he boasted warmly in a grandfatherly way (not that he'd know.)

Hermione nudged Harry to get his attention then pointed in the headmaster's direction. He turned then scowled at the sight of the old man, "Huh? Oh. What can I do for you, headmaster?"

Albus frowned slightly, "Did you not hear what I just said to you?"

"Harry made a face, "Not really. I heard someone waffling on about Weasley and just tuned it out. I got better things to do than listen to that idiot."

Albus shook his head in a sort of condescending manner, "Harry, my boy. You should learn to forgive people for their sometimes misguided words. Ronald is simply too young to realize that a fanciful tale is not reality. It doesn't mean that you should be calling your friend an idiot."

Now it was the headmaster who was being looked at as if he were being an idiot, "In what universe would I _ever_ look on the Crimson Prat as being a friend of mine? He's been nothing but rude and dismissive of my real friends, his eating habits would put pigs to shame and I don't think the kid has learned the basic concepts of personal hygiene. He constantly tells lies about how he and I have been best mates for years and yet before I got my letter, I had no clue that the magical world existed. ' _That was a lie but I don't want to let the headmaster know that._ '

Albus tried again to plant the seed in Harry's mind that Ronald came from a wonderful, Light-sided family of witches and wizards and that he should open his heart to them as one could never have enough of the right sort of friends, smiled patronizingly then walked away.

Harry watched the old man walk away and shook his head. He caught sight of the incredulous look on Hermione's face and rolled his eyes in commiseration.

"Come on; let's go back to my room so we can work on the potion together." He took her by the hand and led her back towards the Puff entrance. A couple of other kids noted their hand-holding with pointed giggles and silly faces but neither Harry nor Hermione made any sort of recognition other than a slight pinking of Hermione's face.

* * *

_**In Harry's Dorm…** _

Harry flopped onto the comfy armchair in the room and let out an aggrieved sigh, "That man is going to drive me barmy. Always going on about how certain people can be trusted while others cannot. He treats me as if I'm two years old and can't figure that out for myself. I don't know what his game is but I refuse to play it."

Hermione was perplexed, true the headmaster came across as slightly goofy what with his bizarre fashion sense (or lack thereof) and spoke like he was some ancient mystic sitting on top of a mountain but she'd felt that he was essentially harmless. Weird but harmless, "But Harry! What about all those books written about him? Do you think that he shouldn't be given the proper respect?"

Harry sighed deeply, "Not really. You know as well as anyone who's ever studied history is that it is written by the victors. Besides, what has he done recently that should get him the respect he seems to think he's owed? His last major accomplishment was becoming headmaster in 1964. He's not taught a class since then so he has no real concept as to what we kids are like anymore, he's utterly clueless about how things in the modern world work."

Hermione gently sat on the edge of his bed and frowned heavily, "But what about his battle against Grindelwald back in 1945? He ended a very nasty magical war."

Harry shook his head and scrubbed his face with his hands, "Again, the victor writes history. What we know is only what he's _told_ us. The history I was taught was that he apparated in and defeated Grindelwald in a titanic battle which ended the conflict. Keep in mind the keyword there: he _defeated_ Grindelwald. He didn't kill him. Mr. Cody is always teaching me to look beyond the problem, look at the history of the problem. My problem with the headmaster is that he's being a sneaky and secretive person and that it has something to do with me. I don't know why though, I'm just an ordinary magical kid. Anyways, it's not something I'm going to deal with right now. I'll leave all the heavy stuff to the adults. Do you still want to help me with the potion?"

Her beaming smile was the only answer he needed.

* * *

**Dinnertime, Great Hall**

"Hey, Harry! I'm gonna write my mother and invite you to our place come Christmas. You wanna come with us?" Ronald yelled across the Great Hall.

Harry didn't even bother to look up; he just kept on eating as if no one had called his name.

"Harry! Mate, Come on! We'll have a blast!"

"Aren't you going to respond to him?" Asked one of the second year Puffs.

Harry shook his head, "Nope. Not unless he figures out that he needs to get up on his feet and walk over to speak with me like a human being. I'm not a baboon in the zoo that needs to yell everything across the room."

The second year snorted, "So in other words, he'll never shut up." She glanced back at the redhaired idiot who was busily munching away on the food while still talking loudly, "Do you think that he might have been dropped on his head as a baby?"

Harry chuckled, "I have no idea. The Twins say that he's always been like that."

* * *

Surprisingly, Ron did stop yelling across the room but only when Draco Malfoy strutted into the room. Ron's eyes took on this weird glaze as the boy dropped his half-eaten turkey leg back onto his plate and climbed to his feet then took off at a near run towards the blonde braggart. He caught up to him and wrapped his arm around the boy in a manly hug, "Harry! Hey, I'm glad you're here. How would you like to come to my house for Christmas? Please say you'll come; it'll be a blast. We'll have everything there: food, games, a tree to decorate, food, some fireworks that the twins are planning; how about it? I can write my mother and let her know that you'll be a guest."

Poor Draco didn't know what the hell was going on, only that he knew that he wanted to get away from this blood-traitor's foul breath and slovenly appearance. He shoved his way clear and backed away from the slightly deranged redhead.

"Get away from me, Weasley! I don't know who you _think_ you are but my father will hear about this! Filthy blood-traitor, get your disgusting fingers off these clothes." He kept smacking Ronald's hands away from the front of his robes.

* * *

Minerva was in a conversation with Pomona when the altercation began. She sighed at the sight of her slovenly cub practically hanging off Draco Malfoy, getting in the blonde boy's face and trying to wrap his arm around his shoulders.

"Excuse me, Pomona. I need to go deal with this." She saw Severus was already making his way down, his countenance dark.

"Mr. Weasley! What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm trying to convince Harry here to come visit me at Christmas!"

Minerva peered curiously at Severus who had an equally confused look his face, "Mr. Weasley? That's not Harry Potter. This is Draco Malfoy who you're assaulting."

Ron scoffed, "Professor, I swear that this is Harry Potter."

Severus made some kind of noise as he slowly turned in the direction of Hufflepuff's table.

Minerva shook her head, "Regardless, you were being disgusting and grabbing at another person. Ten points from Gryffindor for your disgusting appearance, poor eating habits and the hassling another student. I want you to go to the hospital wing now, Mr. Weasley."

"But, but…what about Harry?"

"That is NOT Harry Potter! Now go!" She growled at him and thrusting a finger in the direction of the hospital. Ron gave his own pitiful growl and left the room. She turned to Draco, "Mr. Malfoy? Are you alright?"

Draco straightened himself up as best he could, "Damn blood-traitor; when my father hears about this, I hope he gets the…" He turned and located the real Harry, "Hey, Potter? What is that nickname that Weasley picked up?" He heard Harry respond with 'Crimson Prat' and nodded with a pointing finger gesture, "Yes, that. I hope he gets the Crimson Prat expelled!"

* * *

As they were leaving the Great Hall after dinner, Severus pulled Harry aside for a brief conversation. He confirmed that Harry _may_ have had a hand in creating a confusing concoction but the boy was _aghast_ that Severus suspected him in actually going through with it, "Professor! I _should_ be insulted. I know it's against the rules. Besides, I wouldn't know _who_ would be able to get the potion into his glass without being spotted."

"Uh-huh. You used the elves, yes I know. I already checked, stinker." Harry blushed but grinned unrepentantly anyhow; Severus just rolled his eyes, "I approve, by the way. What you did? It was harmless and meant to be funny. I just wish your father and his friends understood that back when we went to school here." He made a dismissive face and went back to his seat at the teacher's table.

* * *

**Monday 11 November 1991 Just outside Transfiguration**

"I'm not trying to be insulting to you specifically, Hermione; I'm just saying that girls aren't the pranking sort. You're all so prim and proper to ever think of getting 'down and dirty' as it were," Harry tried to explain as they headed towards their next class.

Hermione glared at her friend, "I think that sounds like a challenge, Mr. Potter. What do you say to a prank contest?"

They were interrupted by the stereo speech of the Weasley Twins.

"Gred? It sounds like these two little Puffs are thinking of holding a prank war. Should we get involved and help young Miss Granger or perhaps Mr. Potter?"

"I think so too, Forge. Who knows if these two ickle firsties even know the Fine Art of Pranking?"

Hermione stuck her nose in the air primly, "I don't need your help. I know for a fact that Harry is going down. Name your terms." The Twins turned to Harry who was staring back at her with a bemused expression.

"Okay… I think that the one who gives up has to stand up in front of everyone in the Great Hall and declare them to be the Pranking God or Goddess of the Universe before bowing to the winner. It's just between the two of us, okay? You can't involve anyone else in the execution of the prank."

She crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her gaze at him, "Fine. Let's make this just for just one week? Starting today at lunch? Also, no pranks that interfere with our ability to study or take a test?" Harry agreed with that.

They shook hands then Hermione pushed her way past the boys and stalked off. George laid his arm over Harry's shoulders, "Would you like any help with this challenge?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't think that would be fair. This is a friendly competition between the two of us. Besides, if you involve yourself; everyone will know. I plan on going the subtle route. Let her wonder if challenging a potioneer was a good idea."

* * *

**Lunchtime, Main Courtyard**

"Hey! Get back here! Gimme that back!" Harry yelled as he chased one of their House's cats made off with his wand. The cat deftly jumped out of his reach and ran up a tree before bounding over Harry's head and disappeared inside the castle. Harry followed as quickly as he could and skidded to a halt in front of the caretaker, Argus Filch who was holding the wand in his hand and had a puzzled look on his face.

"Potter? I take it this is yours?" He said in a gravelly voice.

Harry huffed and puffed, wiping his hair from his eyes, "Yes, sir. One of the cats grabbed it out of my hand and took off with it." He thanked the caretaker for rescuing it for him and made sure to firmly put his wand in his bag.

He was waylaid a moment later by Seamus Finnegan, "Hey, Harry! I saw what happened but I don't understand _why_ it happened. Care to help a fellow out?"

Harry sighed, "I got into a prank war with Hermione and that was her opening salvo."

An eyebrow rose.

"She's got the ability to speak to and understand certain animals while only being able to understand others," He waved that off, "Anyway, she probably talked one of the cats into stealing my wand and making me chase for it. It's my turn now…" he smiled wickedly at the words.

* * *

Hermione was sitting at their table eating her lunch when Harry sat down across from her. She smiled prettily as he huffed and mock-sneered at her, "Good prank with the cat. Nice opening." He reached for the pitcher of water, poured himself a glass then offered to refill hers.

"Yes, thank you." She went back to her eating while reading a magazine. She reached for the glass a moment later and took a swig. Instantly, she felt her scalp itch and when she reached up to scratch; she discovered that her hair was gone!

She screeched in alarm and began berating Harry for vanishing her hair. The rest of the Hall were treated to the sight of a bald first year Hermione Granger chasing Harry Potter around the Great Hall and whapping him about the head and arms with a rolled up magazine screeching at him to put it right.

An older Puff, Cedric Diggory, managed to pin Hermione down when Harry approached, "Pranks on you, Hermione. Don't worry, the effects will wear off in about an hour."

"An _hour!_ "

"Maybe wear a hat?" he smirked at her outrage.

* * *

**Severus' office, near curfew**

There was a determined knocking on his door, interrupting the wonderful silence he was enjoying and caused Severus to grumble once again about the injustices of his life. He rose from his chair and strode over to the door and unlocked it. The door opened to reveal Hermione standing there with a resolute look on her face.

"Professor? I need your help with pranking Harry Potter."

Of all the things a student could have ever said to him, not once in recent memory had anyone been able to stun him like that. _'Well, there was that seventh year student a couple of years ago who foolishly thought that if she offered herself up for his own pleasure it might get her a better grade on her Potions NEWT.'_

He moved to the side and let her in where she immediately started pacing, "What seems to be the problem?"

Hermione stopped abruptly and faced him, "I started a prank war with Harry but I'm at a loss as how to win it. He and I have already gotten each other once but I'm afraid that he might go too far."

Severus folded his arms across his chest, "What were the two pranks?"

Hermione shifted uncertainly, "I uh, I convinced one of the cats to steal his wand and run off with it for a few minutes. The cat would entice Harry to chase after it."

Severus remained externally impassive but inside he was practically howling with laughter, "And the second?"

"He created a potion that removed all my hair for an hour! I was walking around the school completely bald!" she whined.

"So you want me to help end this war that you started in a fit of childish pique?" She shook her head.

"Yes, no, ugh! I don't know. I thought that if I could prank him back using a potion that would give me enough time to coordinate something bigger and better. He'd be distracted by this new potion that he wouldn't have any time to react."

Severus slowly shook his head and walked back to his seat, "My answer is no. I will not help." He said this as he slowly inched a thin, leather-bound journal across the table, "I cannot be party to the madness and idiocy that involves pranks." Her status in his eyes rose another couple of notches when the journal vanished without even a whisper of noise.

Hermione bowed her head, "Well… I'm sorry to have wasted your time then, Professor." She turned and bolted out the door.

Severus just laughed out loud, "Oh, this ought to be good!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to end it here. This chapter is over 9500 words and was getting unwieldy. A little bit of humor to end a chapter is always a good idea, in my opinion. I hope this chapter works, it fought me every step of the way.


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